Across The Stars
by Bohemian Anne
Summary: A crossover between Titanic and Star Wars, in which Jack, Rose, and Cal exist in the Star Wars universe.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before.

The woman gasped, struggling not to cry out, as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. She tried to find her center, to release the pain into the Force as she had been taught long ago, but to no avail. The pain came in waves, growing more powerful and closer together, like the waters of a great ocean before a coming storm.

She cursed whoever had decided, in some bygone millennium, that a Jedi should be able to release their pain and anxiety into the Force. Whoever it had been, she decided, had never given birth.

The baby was coming, and soon, according to the medical droids who now attended to her. The tiny life that she had carried inside her for nine standard months would soon be separated from her, not only from her body, but from her life.

Gritting her teeth, she bore down, thinking of the man she had fallen in love with, though a Jedi was forbidden attachment, and her lover, too, had had obligations beyond himself. But that hadn't stopped them from loving, as much as they had at first tried to deny it. And as the months had passed, they had at last given in to their feelings for one another, no longer denying what they both knew.

It had been a year since she had been to the Temple on Coruscant, a year since she had come to this planet to help negotiate the end of a vicious, genocidal civil war. The war had ended, though the bitterness and pain of many had not, and still she had remained, convincing herself and the Council that she was still needed there.

But it had been the planet's Senator who had kept her there, not the suffering people who were slowly beginning to rebuild their lives.

They had met when she had first arrived here. He had greeted her when she had stepped from her transport, worry evident in his face. Unlike many Senators, his sympathies were truly with his people—all of his people—and the violence that had broken out on the outskirts of the planet's largest city and spread pained him. He wanted to put an end to the war, an end to the suffering, as soon as possible.

She had worked with him to negotiate with the two sides of the conflict, addressing the grievances of both and working to end the war. Neither side had come out completely satisfied, and the grief and suffering had applied to both, but the war had ended two months later, and most of the combatants had gone home and the death camps had been emptied.

The Senator had gone to his estate to rest and recuperate after the strain of the war, and she had gone with him, ostensibly to protect him from the small bands of still-angry people who had refused to lay down their weapons. There had been more to it than that, of course, and they had both known it, but neither had acknowledged the feelings that had been there from the start—not to each other, and not even to themselves.

At least not at first. Several weeks had passed before they had allowed those feelings to show, and even then they had kept their growing relationship secret—the consequences of others knowing had been unthinkable for both.

She had known from the start that their love was impossible, that it would never work—they were both dedicated to duties far beyond themselves, and those duties had already dictated the directions their lives would take. But the joy of those stolen moments had been more than either was willing to resist, though both knew that their love would only bring them pain in the end.

If things had been different—if she had not been a Jedi, if he had not been a Senator dedicated to his people—it might have worked. But there was no changing the people they were, or the directions their lives had already taken.

Two months after she had accompanied him to his estate, they parted.

She had considered giving up the life she knew for him, but for them to be together would have required him to also give up his obligations—something that, in the end, he had been unable to do. He was the Senator for millions of people, and in the traditions of those highly born or highly placed on his world, his future had been laid out long before. To abandon that future would have been to abandon his people, to abandon a planet only beginning to recover from a war that had torn people apart.

A week before they parted, the woman to whom he had been betrothed for a year had come to the estate with her family. It was a political marriage, arranged by their families to consolidate their wealth and power, but to put a stop to it would have threatened his position as Senator—and his planet's chance at lasting peace. Reluctantly, he had made his decision, and the secret lovers had parted ways, he returning to his city home for his wedding and she traveling about the planet and seeking to establish peace between still hostile groups.

A month after she had left him, she had realized that something was amiss, and, after being examined by a healer in one of the small villages she had defended, she had risked returning to her lover's city to confront him.

She was pregnant.

He had been shocked at first, and then regretful—he would never have left her if he had known—but it had been too late to change things. He was married, and a divorce was very difficult to get on his world, even if he was wealthy and well-connected. He had offered to find her a home on his planet, to make sure that she and the child were provided for, but she had realized even before confronting him that his path in life was irreversibly set—and so was hers.

Things were changing in the galaxy, conflicts growing more frequent and often more violent, and the need for experienced Jedi Knights such as herself was growing. She didn't know why it was changing, or where it would end, but she knew that she had a duty to the Republic that she could not turn away from.

She wanted the baby, but she knew that she couldn't keep it and continue as a Jedi. Even if she brought the baby to the Temple to be raised as a Jedi and never spoke of their relationship, it was inevitable that sooner or later someone would find out—and it would come down hard on both herself and the baby. The baby might not even have the potential to be a Jedi, and would be sent away once this was discovered. Whatever happened, she would be unable to keep and raise her child.

Instead, she had asked the Senator to take the baby. If it became known that he had an illegitimate child—especially with a woman who was a Jedi Knight—it would bring him down and destroy what he had worked to accomplish for his planet. But no one needed to know that the child was his—the baby could be adopted at birth, the birth records sealed. No one would ever need to know that the infant was his first-born, or that its mother was a Jedi. Nor would the infant be tested for Force-sensitivity—nothing would be done that might jeopardize either mother or child.

He had agreed, realizing that what she had said about the impossibility of her keeping the child was true—and he would no sooner leave his own child to the tender mercies of a world too often divided than he would abandon his people as a whole for a love that he knew to be forbidden. He had spoken to his bride about it, telling her that they would be adopting the child of a woman left widowed by the continuing outbreaks of violence after the war. His wife had agreed—though the marriage was not one of love, she did respect what he was trying to do, and was willing to accept the baby as her own.

Now the Jedi woman lay on the delivery table, straining to give birth. The pain was intense—she was unable to release it into the Force as she had been taught—and she dreaded the moment when the baby would be taken from her, perhaps never to see it again.

Though she dreaded it, the birth was inevitable, and it wasn't long before she felt the child at last slide from her body, heard the first cries of the newborn infant. She pushed herself up, wanting to see the baby—and perhaps hold it—at least once before it was taken away.

"It's a girl," the medical droid who had delivered the baby told her, cutting and tying off the umbilical cord.

She reached out, wanting to hold her baby for a moment before she was taken away. The droid wrapped the newborn in a blanket and placed her in her arms, allowing her a moment to see and hold her daughter before she was taken away to her father, who waited at his city home for the infant.

"Bring me my belongings," she commanded the droid, turning her full attention to her daughter. It was the only time she would ever hold her like this, perhaps the only time she would ever see her, and she wanted to make the most of the few moments she had—and leave a gift for her daughter, though the girl would probably never know who had given it to her.

When the droid returned with her belongings, she reached into a hidden pocket of her robe and withdrew one of the few things she could truly call her own. It was a deep blue stone, mined from deep in the ocean and rock core of her birth planet, Naboo, that had been cut into a heart shape and suspended from a chain of glittering crystals. It had been a family heirloom, one that her parents had insisted go with her when she had been sent to the Temple at six months old to become a Jedi.

Now, she would pass it on to her own daughter. She held the stone in one hand for a moment, feeling the odd power that had always seemed to emanate from it, before tucking it into her daughter's blanket. She knew that the baby's father would make sure that the necklace was held in trust for her until she was of age.

Before surrendering her daughter to the droid who waited patiently beside her, she had one last gift to impart—a name. Though it was the custom of this planet that the father name his children, no one but herself and her lover knew what the baby's true parentage was, and so it was her responsibility to give her daughter a name.

As the droid took the newborn girl from her arms, she turned to it, telling it what her daughter's name was to be.

"Rosé. Her name is Rosé."

"I will tell the adoptive parents of the girl's name," the droid told her, cradling the newborn carefully as it walked away.

She watched it go, listening until the last faint sounds of the droid's footsteps had faded away, before she lay back on the table and closed her eyes, trying desperately to overcome the pain of giving up her only child.


	2. Part I: Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_Coruscant  
Seventeen Years Later_

"Another assassination attempt there has been." Yoda, the diminutive green Jedi Master, looked at the Jedi Knight and her Padawan as they stood before the Council. "Foiled it was when the Senator's daughter pushed the assassins out the window. However, requested protection the Senator's wife has. For this purpose, sending you we are."

"Which Senator's family is this, Master?" the Jedi Knight, Maira Jennings, inquired.

There had been several assassination attempts on Senators in the past few weeks, some more successful than others—all on Senators who had opposed the Military Creation Act. Someone badly wanted the act passed, but the Jedi had not yet been able to ascertain who.

"The family of Cleon Bukater, who was assassinated three days ago," another Council member, Ki-Adi-Mundi, told her. "The second attempt took place last night. Bukater was the Arcadian Senator, and on Arcadia, political power is often passed amongst family members. We suspect that the second attempt may have been to try to remove any further threat to the Military Creation Act from members of the deceased Senator's family."

"I see." Maira stood quietly for a moment, processing this information. "And our assignment is to protect the remaining Bukaters?"

"Protect them you must while found the assassin is," Yoda said, tapping his gimer stick on the floor. "Too many attempts there have been. Three Senators dead there are; help protect the remaining targets we must."

"Yes, Master." Maira glanced at her Padawan, Jack Dawson, relieved that he was paying attention.

"To the apartment of the remaining Bukaters, Ruth and Rosé, go you will. Check the security and keep watch. To be taken lightly these assassins are not."

"Yes, Master." Maira and Jack bowed, then turned to leave the Council room.

"May the Force be with you, Knight Jennings and Padawan Dawson."

XXXXX

A short time later, Maira and Jack were in an elevator, ascending to one of the higher levels of 500 Republica. Maira turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Padawan, I need to make something clear."

"What is it, Master?"

"You need to pay more attention to your surroundings, more attention to what is being said. There is more to being a Jedi Knight than sketching pictures of likely suspects. You must be mindful of what's going on around you."

"I am."

"Not mindful enough, Jack. You need to pay attention to detail, not just so you can record it later, but so that you know what is happening in the present. This is why you're twenty years old and still a Padawan—you haven't learned to be mindful of the present enough."

"Master…"

"Padawan, this assignment is very important. There have been several assassination attempts, some successful, over the past few weeks. Someone is trying to put a stop to opposition to a bill they support, not through campaigning or even favors or bribery, but by killing the opposition. Not only does this destroy innocent lives, but it undermines the democracy we are bound to protect. Do you understand?"

Jack sighed. "Yes, Master Maira."

"I hope you do. You'll make a good Jedi Knight someday…probably someday soon…but you must learn to be mindful of what is happening in the moment."

The elevator stopped, the doors opening, before Jack could reply. They stepped out, nodding respectfully to a Senator waiting for the elevator, and made their way toward the Bukater apartment.

Jack stood behind Maira as she pushed the button to announce their presence, mildly annoyed at the lecture he had just received. He _did_ take note of what was going on around him—it just wasn't always in the way his Master wished. He knew that she was right, that he needed to be mindful of the moment, but he didn't appreciate being lectured.

The door was answered by a TC-16 protocol droid. "Ah…the Jedi Knights. Do come in. Mistress Ruth has been expecting you. May I offer you refreshment?"

"Not at the moment, thank you," Maira told the droid, following it inside.

"Mistress Ruth, Mistress Rosé, the Jedi Knights are here." TC-16 announced their presence.

A haggard, exhausted-looking redheaded woman of middle years rose from a couch to greet them. "Thank you for coming. I am Ruth DeWitt-Bukater, and this is my daughter, Rosé." She indicated a young woman with equally red hair who sat beside the window, seemingly unaware of their presence. "Rosé, we have visitors. Remember your manners."

The girl turned slowly from the window. "Hello," she said, then turned back to the window, her expression distant.

Ruth turned to the two Jedi. "I do apologize. She hasn't been herself since her father's assassination. She saw it happen, you see…she hid from the assassins and then contacted me on the comlink."

Maira and Jack looked at each other, each knowing what the other was thinking. Perhaps the second assassination attempt hadn't been to put an end to any political power held by the family, but had instead been to silence the only witness.

Maira looked at Rosé, frowning slightly. The girl was obviously upset, perhaps about more than her father's death. She turned her attention to a nearby table covered in black, a holo of the late Senator sitting atop it surrounded by flowers and flickering candles—a traditional sign of mourning amongst Arcadians. Traditionally, it was the body that was surrounded by candles and flowers for three days before burial, but on Coruscant, with no place for burial, the body had been cremated the following day, and the holo on the black-covered table had taken the place of the traditional deathwatch.

She took a deep, calming breath to center herself, tucking her hands inside the sleeves of her robe as she turned back to Ruth.

"We were told that the assassins returned yesterday…what happened then?"

Ruth sank back down on the couch, gesturing to them to sit on the matching piece of furniture across from her.

"Rosé and I were here alone—the other mourners had left and I had sent TC-16 on an errand—when I heard an odd noise coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate and found three heavily armed strangers there—a human, a Toydarian, and a member of a species I couldn't identify. I don't know how they got in—perhaps they slipped in with the mourners, disguised as friends of Cleon, or perhaps they found a way over the balcony that the bedrooms open onto. I keep the door locked at all times, particularly since my husband was killed, but with all the mourners coming and going, it would have been easy enough for someone to slip in unchallenged.

"I cried out when I saw them and ran, but one of them grabbed me and put a hand over my mouth, dragging me into the living area. Rosé had heard my cry and come running, and when she saw them, she ran to my defense, leaping on the back of the human holding me prisoner and trying to free me. He let go of me, but the three of them began to push us toward a closet—intending, no doubt, to kill us there and hide our bodies. When they found that the closet was locked and we refused to give them to code to open it, they moved across the room to confer, the one whose species I couldn't identify keeping his blaster trained on us so we wouldn't escape.

"In a couple of moments, they came toward us again, blasters raised—I suppose they'd given up on the idea of a quiet killing—but when the human aimed his blaster at me, Rosé screamed and ran in front of me, throwing her arms out in an attempt to protect me. The blaster must have backfired, because all three of them suddenly flew backwards and through the transparisteel windows." She glanced at her daughter. "Rosé is certain that it was something she did that caused them to fly through the windows, but I don't see how—they were clear across the room. She never touched them. The Toydarian flew away, but the others plunged to their deaths hundreds of stories below."

Maira looked at the girl, who was still staring out the window, hunched as though against a blow. She had an idea of what had happened, but she wouldn't say anything to Ruth until she had talked to Rosé herself—and perhaps tested her for certain inborn abilities.

She turned to her Padawan, wanting his opinion, but found, to her annoyance, that his attention had wandered again—this time to the girl sitting in front of the window. _More than just wandered,_ she thought. _He's a Jedi, and shouldn't be looking at anyone in that way—and certainly not a girl we're supposed to watching over._

_/Padawan/_ She called to him through their bond.

_/Mmm/_ His attention was still focused on Rosé.

_/Stop looking at her like that/_

Rosé turned to look back at him, showing the first sign of interest in their presence, causing Maira to wonder if she shouldn't just leave Jack alone. Still…he wasn't supposed to be watching her with such interest.

Jack paid no attention to her command. Sighing inwardly, she tried again. _/Padawan, stop it/_

Jack still ignored her, all his attention focused on Rosé, who had looked away for a moment but was now staring back at him challengingly.

Maira moved a little closer to him, surreptiously elbowing him in the side. His attention finally pulled away from Rosé, Jack turned to her. "Yes, Master?"

_/Stop looking at her like that. You're a Jedi. She's a Senator's daughter. Need I elaborate/_

_/Sorry, Master/_

_/Be mindful of your feelings, Jack. They betray you/_

_/I'd like to sketch her, Master/_

_/No doubt. But this is not the time or the place. You are here to protect her and her mother, not long for the attention of a girl who is forbidden to you. Remember that/_

Jack sighed. _/Yes, Master. But at least I'm paying attention to my surroundings this time/_

_/Pay attention to all your surroundings, Jack, not just one person/_

Rosé watched them quietly, observing the interaction between the two. They seemed to be communicating, though she wasn't sure how. She had seen the woman elbow the young man in the side when he was staring at her and knew that she disapproved.

She shrugged, turning away from them again. The young man's interest and the woman's disapproval meant nothing. After tonight, nothing would have any meaning.


	3. Part I: Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"It's good that you changed the entry code to your apartment, but don't rely on it too strongly. There are plenty of ways to bypass it, and some beings don't need the code at all—they'll simply break through the door or use the Force or other means to open the lock."

Maira looked at Ruth seriously, wondering just how much protection the wife of the late Senator thought the Jedi could give them. She and Jack were up to the task, she was certain, but if more pressing matters came up in the galaxy and there was no one else to handle them, they would be called away. They couldn't protect them indefinitely—and there was no telling how long the threat would last. Some beings had to remain in hiding for decades, centuries even—though certainly not so long for humans, who rarely lived more than a century or two, if that—but the threat of assassination could last for a very long time. The Bukater women needed to be able to provide their own security, to defend themselves—and by more than chance, as Rosé's defense of her mother and herself had been.

Still, now was not the time to discuss that with them. Ruth had informed her that she had guests coming to dinner—the Nem representative of Arcadia, Cina, and Rosé's betrothed, Caledon Hockley, who hoped to follow in her father's footsteps and become the Arcadian Senator. Maira had informed Jack, and both were on the lookout for changelings or others who might disguise themselves as the guests.

Maira looked up as the door to Rosé's room slid open and the girl stepped out, dressed in an elegant evening gown with her curls pinned up elaborately beneath a silver hair cage. She had applied the dazzling makeup required for the occasion, but underneath it, she still looked pale, drawn, and sad, and her expression only became more sorrowful as she stopped before the table on which her father's holo and the ceremonial candles rested. Bowing her head, she made a brief gesture that Maira recognized as the Nem sign for mourning.

Rosé nodded briefly to both Jedi, her eyes lingering on Jack, who was checking the security cameras Ruth had ordered installed just that afternoon. Then, without a word, she turned back to the window, staring out over the darkening city.

The door's chime rang just a few moments later, announcing the arrival of one of the guests. Ruth nodded to Maira, allowing her to answer the door and ascertain who was there before letting them in.

Two minutes later, Cina walked in. The Nem representative was short, perhaps four and half feet tall, and sturdily built, barrel-chested, slightly bow-legged, short-necked, and with a jutting, prominent face that set her apart from the other humans in the room. Her elaborate gown, though made just for her, seemed to fit awkwardly on her short figure, and the slightly worn, beaded amulet she wore around her neck didn't quite match the rest of her elaborate clothing. Nevertheless, the amulet was her most prized possession, and she wouldn't have parted with it for all the wealth of the galaxy.

Rosé turned when she saw Cina approaching. Steeping away from the window, she knelt before her in the traditional greeting practiced by both her own people, the Parni, and the Nem, the earliest and most ancient inhabitants of Arcadia.

Cina knelt, too, grasping Rosé's hands, then stood, standing slightly taller than Rosé's kneeling form. She reached out and embraced the girl, patting her gently on the back.

"Rosé," she murmured, the word almost unrecognizable in her guttural voice. She stepped back, her hands moving in elaborate gestures that took the place of the words the Nem found so difficult to speak. "I sorrow for your loss," she gestured, speaking only a few brief syllables that sounded most like the sounds of an animal than those of a human. "Cleon was a good man, one of the best leaders I have known. It gives me joy to see you alive and well after the second attempt yesterday."

"My thanks, Cina," Rosé gestured back, though her lips trembled and she refused to meet the woman's eyes. "I am only glad that you were not a target, also."

Rosé got to her feet, turning to face the two Jedi who were standing discreetly nearby. "I apologize for not introducing her already. This is Cina of the Lion Clan, the Nem representative of Arcadia in the Senate. She understands Basic, but like most Nem, cannot speak it. If you need to speak to her, I can translate. I know the Nem sign language."

"Thank you," Maira replied, "but I know it, too. My first Padawan, Lati, was Nem. She was able to speak a little Basic, but not much."

"I know Lati," Cina gestured. "It was a proud day for the Nem when she returned to Arcadia to stay and serve as an on-planet negotiator between our people and the Parni."

"Yes," Maira agreed. "Negotiation was always one of her strongest points, though she was skilled with a lightsaber when that failed." She turned to her confused Padawan, quickly explaining what Cina had said, then turned back to Cina and Rosé. "I know the Nem language well, but Jack does not. You may need to translate for him if I am not present."

The door chime sounded again, and Maira nodded respectfully to Rosé and Cina, then went to answer the door again. Even before she opened it, she could sense the man on the other side and knew who he was—Caledon Hockley, former Jedi trainee, needed no special identification.

She opened the door to let him in, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of the arrogant Senatorial aide. Now thirty years old, he had been brought to the Temple as an infant to be raised as a Jedi, but his chronic bad temper and arrogance had cost him dearly, and he had never been selected as a Padawan. On his thirteenth birthday, he had been sent back to his family on Arcadia, per the agreement made when he had been brought to the Temple. Maira had been away on a mission when he was sent back to his family, but she still remembered him—his intolerance of smaller children, including the boy who later became her Padawan, Jack, was well-known, and he had once angrily attempted to Force-push Master Yoda across a hallway. The attempt had done no more than annoy the ancient Jedi Master, but it had cost the boy any chance he might have had of finding a Master.

Now, as he pushed past her dismissively and ignored Jack altogether, she sensed that he hadn't changed much. If anything, his arrogance had grown more intense since he had been returned to his family.

Caledon walked up Rosé, pointedly snubbing Cina, who gestured something decidedly unflattering behind his back, and gave her a quick kiss. Neither Maira nor Jack missed the way that Rosé flinched slightly at the gesture, backing away almost imperceptibly, but Ruth beamed.

"Rosé, sweetpea, you didn't need to bring the Jedi into this. I can hire all the security you need." Caledon took Rosé's hand, not noticing her fake smile or the way she tried to edge away from him.

"It was Mother's idea, actually." Rosé pulled her hand away. "She wants those behind the assassination caught as quickly as possible."

Caledon scowled slightly at her words, but covered it swiftly. He moved quickly to Ruth, kissing her hand with a flourish, then tossed his cloak to TC-16, almost covering the protocol droid's head. Maira knew that the droid had no real emotions, but she could swear the TC-16's posture was indignant as it turned to hang up the cloak.

About half an hour later, the party sat down to dinner. TC-16 served Maira and Jack, but they were relegated to a small table out of the way of the Bukaters and their guests, though not so far that they couldn't be there almost immediately if trouble presented itself. The two Jedi listened discreetly to the conversation at the table, searching for any clues that might present themselves.

_/Master/_

_/Yes, Jack/_

_/The Senatorial aide, Caledon Hockley—he seems familiar for some reason/_

_/He was at the Temple until the age of thirteen, but was never chosen as a Padawan/_

_/Did I know him/_

_/He threw you into a Temple pool when you were two years old and got in his way/_

_/No wonder I don't like him/_

_/Don't judge him, Padawan. That was over eighteen years ago/_

_/You don't like him, either/_

_/What makes you think that/_

_/I can feel your dislike through our bond, even though you try to shield it. There's something about him that doesn't seem…right/_

_/The Council thought the same…that's why he was sent back to his family on Arcadia when he turned thirteen/_

_/He doesn't like Jedi/_

_/That certainly seems to be the case/_

_/I don't think Cina or Mistress Rosé like him, either. Even I recognized the gesture Cina made when he snubbed her/_

_/Be nice, Padawan/_

_/And Mistress Rosé flinched when he kissed her/_

_/She does seem unhappy, but it could be for any number of reasons. Her father died recently, and yesterday she killed two would-be assassins…you know how difficult it is the first time you kill another being, even when you're trained as a warrior, as Jedi are/_

_/I know, but…something just doesn't feel right/_

_/It doesn't, but in times like this, when so much is wrong, it can be hard to determine what is truly a problem and what just feels like a problem. We can meditate about it later/_

_/Yes, Master/_

Jack turned his attention back to the conversation at the table, observing out of the corner of his eye as Rosé pushed her food around on her plate, hardly eating anything, though the quality of the food was excellent. Caledon was opining loudly on the Military Creation Act, evidently in favor of it. Cina was trying to add her opinion, but Caledon talked over her attempts until she shouted a shortened version of his name, then began gesturing emphatically. Ruth scowled, evidently displeased with the dissension at her table, while Rosé half-heartedly translated Cina's gestures. When Caledon began talking loudly again, this time about the upcoming election to replace Arcadia's Senator, Rosé seemed to shrink into her chair, abandoning all attempts at eating.

Jack watched her more closely, his eyes following her hand as she took a small, sharp fork from beside her plate and pressed the tines into her forearm. Realizing what she was doing, he made a slight gesture, using the Force to pull the fork from her hand and send it clattering to the floor.

Rosé jumped, startled, when the fork suddenly flew from her hand, seemingly of its own volition. Embarrassed, she leaned over to pick it up, wincing as she saw the marks she had made on her arm. The others turned to stare at her, Cina inquiringly, Ruth in embarrassment at her daughter's clumsiness, and Caledon with an air of superiority—he had never dropped a utensil at an important dinner, or if he had, he had made sure no one noticed.

"Excuse me…how clumsy of me," Rosé stammered, setting the fork back beside her plate. She looked at the others apologetically. "I am tired…and I'm developing a headache. The last few days have been trying, to say the least. I think I will retire early…may I be excused?"

Ruth waved a hand at her daughter. "Of course, Rosé. I don't expect the dinner to go on much longer, anyway—it's almost time for dessert. Rest well, darling. Be sure to lock the balcony doors before you go to sleep."

"Of course, Mother." Rosé nodded to the others and got to her feet, a look of relief crossing her face as she turned away from them.

_Not much longer now_, she assured herself, walking as quickly at etiquette allowed towards her room, not noticing the concerned faces of the two Jedi as they watched her go.


	4. Part I: Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Rosé curled in a corner of her sleep couch, not caring that she was wrinkling her fine gown or catching the blankets with her high-heeled shoes. She waited silently, listening as Ruth bade Cina and Caledon good-bye, assuring Caledon that she was quite certain he would be elected the next Arcadian Senator.

Rosé curled up more tightly, wanting to cover her ears. Her father had only been dead three days, and already they were talking of 'replacing' him as though he were nothing more than a commodity that had lost its usefulness.

_He was the best!_ she wanted to scream. _He was one of the best Senators of our time! Why is everyone fighting over his position like he was nothing? Did he mean that little? Are politics that important?_

She had no answer. She knew that Arcadia needed a new Senator, though why Cina, who had represented the Nem for the last ten years, couldn't simply step in was beyond her. Of all those who might take Cleon Bukater's place, Cina seemed to her to be the best, but she knew that the fragile peace between the Parni and the Nem that had remained in place for the last seventeen years wouldn't survive it. The Parni were only now beginning to acknowledge the Nem as equals, and after dominating the planet for so long, they wouldn't yet allow a Senator of that ancient race.

Rising slowly from the sleep couch, Rosé looked at the three small but visible security cameras, wondering if the Jedi were watching her even now. She eyed all three cameras, trying to decide how best to keep anyone from watching what she planned to do.

She could try to disable the cameras, but she didn't really know quite how they worked, and she was certain an alarm would sound if the cameras were tampered with. She could try to slip away from their watchful eyes, but she didn't know how much each camera took in—probably a lot, considering that they were designed to catch any intruders.

Finally, she moved towards her closet, selecting three lightweight garments and draping them over the offending cameras. Now, no one could see her, and if she were quiet, no one could hear her.

The room seemed to be closing in on her as she looked towards the balcony doors. Outside, beings sped by in all sorts of vehicles, going about their busy lives. Far below, in the depths of the city, the dregs of the galaxy—perhaps even the being who had plotted the assassinations—lived out their lives.

All of them, she was certain, were better off than her.

Rosé felt as though she were choking. Hands moving to her throat, she found the fine necklace of rare green stones that Caledon had given her when they had been betrothed. She tugged at the clasp, trying to remove it, and when that didn't work, tore at it with anguished strength, breaking the wires holding the necklace together and sending the stones scattering across the floor.

She leaned on her dressing table, breathing hard. _It doesn't matter_, she told herself. _Nothing matters._

But it did matter. Looking around at all the trappings of wealth and privilege, she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. _Why? What is all this for? It couldn't save my father, it couldn't protect my mother and me, and it can't stop the greedy politicians from fighting amongst themselves over my father's legacy!_

Angrily, she tore at the silver hair cage, ripping it off and throwing it against a wall. It clanged softly as it hit, but she didn't notice. Her fingers worked through her red curls, pulling out the hairpins and scattering them everywhere.

She took one last look at her red, tear-stained face in the mirror before running for the balcony doors.

XXXXX

"Jack, please keep watch here. Mistress DeWitt-Bukater and I are going to check the building's security."

"I don't know that there's really anything to worry about there," Ruth protested. "500 Republica is home to Coruscant's most powerful. We demand the highest security."

"Nevertheless, the assassins have managed to slip through twice for your family, and several times for other Senators. It's best that we make certain that everything is functioning as it should be and that all guards are at their posts—and call for repairs or reinforcements if they are not. In addition, if the guards are not aware of the threat, they need to be made aware of it."

Ruth nodded reluctantly, looking towards Rosé's door. Her daughter's despair was the most profound Ruth had ever seen, and she feared for what the girl might do. And if an assassin should come while she was away…

"My Padawan is quite capable of keeping watch and battling any intruders. He has been on minor missions alone before, and I know that he is more than able to keep her safe from any threats. And if he needs me, he can contact me immediately."

Ruth still looked reluctant, but finally she nodded. She couldn't watch Rosé every minute, and perhaps a good night's sleep would improve her daughter's mood. If not…perhaps she would take Rosé to see a mind healer. To be sure, much had happened over the past few days, but despair as deep as her daughter's could be deadly.

After Maira and Ruth departed, Jack walked around the apartment, checking the locks and making sure the cameras were working. He felt uneasy, though he wasn't sure why, and he remembered his Master's admonition from earlier to be mindful of his feelings and not rely too much on the feeling that something wasn't right.

Still, he could feel Rosé's pain in the Force, and that, more than anything else at the moment, set him on edge. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with her, something more than just the normal grief and shock over the events of the past three days, but he didn't know what she might have planned.

He stopped in front of the small view screens that were connected to the cameras in Rosé's room, his brow furrowing at the sight of something blue and metallic on the first screen. Another screen was almost black, with the exception of a little light that shone at the bottom of the screen. The third screen seemed to be covered with some sort of white silky material.

_She covered the cameras with her clothes,_ he realized, peering at the screens in concern. He understood her desire for privacy, but in light of the threat she faced, why had she covered them so thoroughly? If someone sneaked in through her balcony, they would be unable to see the threat until it was too late.

He turned quickly towards her door as something hit the wall with a light metallic sound, followed by a muffled sob and the sound of feet pounding on the carpeted floor. He heard the faint whirring sound of the balcony doors sliding open, and then the clicking of high-heeled shoes on the permacrete balcony.

Jack touched the panel to open the door, only to find it locked. It took only a moment more to unlock the door using the Force, but the scattered mass of gemstones, hairpins, and clothing had him reaching for his lightsaber. He saw no sign of Rosé in the room—the sleep couch, though rumpled, was unslept in—but the balcony doors were open and the automatic lights that came on when someone went outside were shining.

Lightsaber in hand, Jack raced through the open doors, stopping short at the sight of Rosé pulling herself up awkwardly onto the low wall separating the balcony from the airspace beyond.

He quickly put his lightsaber away and moved quietly towards her, not wanting to startle her or frighten her into jumping.

"Don't do it."

Rosé's head whipped around to stare at him. She teetered for a moment, almost losing her balance on the narrow wall. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

Jack edged closer to her, holding out his hand. "Come on. Take my hand. I'll help you."

"No! Don't come any closer! I mean it! I'll jump!"

Jack made a slight gesture. "No, you won't."

"What do you mean, no, I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do! You don't know me!"

Jack frowned slightly; the Force suggestion hadn't worked. "Come back down."

"No! And stop waving your hand around! You're distracting me!" She turned back towards the darkened city. "Go away!"

Obviously, Force suggestions didn't work on her. Jack leaned against the wall casually, trying a different tactic.

"If you were going to jump, you would have done it already."

She turned her head to look at him again. "I'll do it as soon as you leave!"

"Then I'm not leaving."

"I'll scream!"

"And?" He rested his hand lightly on his lightsaber. "That will do what?"

Rosé seemed to crumple then, wavering on the narrow wall. "Please go away. I can't stand it anymore. No one needs to know what really happened. You can tell my mother and your Master that an assassin got me and pushed me from the balcony. It's no more than I deserve, after…"

"No. You don't deserve it. You defended yourself and your mother, just as anyone else would if their lives were threatened."

"You don't know what happened…"

"Not completely, no. But I know enough to understand that you are innocent. You don't deserve to die."

"It's for the best."

"No, it isn't. And I won't let you. If you jump, I'll jump after you."

Rosé stared at him. "That's crazy. It's half a kilometer to the ground. Not even a Jedi could survive that."

"I know. That's why I'm hoping you'll come back down and get me off the hook here." He eased closer, offering her his hand. "Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand."

Rosé looked at him, wondering if she should do as he asked. Was he really crazy enough to jump after her? Did she really want to find out?

The compassion in his eyes told her the truth. He did care, and he would do as he'd said. He cared about her enough to make that sacrifice for her. She didn't know why, but he cared. That was all that mattered. He wasn't manipulating her, wasn't trying to take advantage of her position in society, wasn't angling for power in the wake of her father's death. He was doing this for her.

Slowly, she turned completely, reaching for his hand. He grasped it firmly, giving her a relieved smile.

"Thank you," she whispered, starting to crouch down so she could climb off the wall.

It happened in an instant. Her shoe caught on the train of her gown, sending her off-balance and over the balcony into the night. Only Jack's grip on her hand kept her from falling.

"Help me!" she screamed, her earlier desire to throw herself into the depths of the city forgotten. "Please, help me!"

Jack's grip on her hand tightened. "I've got you! I won't let go." He pulled on her hand, nearly getting over the wall before she slipped again.

Rosé screamed again, louder this time, attracting the attention of beings flying by. "Help! Somebody please help me!"

Jack saw a man angling his speeder under her, preparing to catch her, but he knew he wouldn't get there in time. Even as his grip on her hand started to slip, he used the Force to get hold of her wrist, pulling her towards him with all his strength. With a final push from the Force, he got her back over the wall, twisting awkwardly and landing atop her just as Ruth and Maira came running, alerted by her screams.

The two women had entered the apartment just as Rosé had slipped for the second time and come running. Maira got there first, the Force adding speed to her step, but Ruth wasn't far behind her. She grabbed Jack, pulling him off her daughter, and took the sobbing girl in her arms, glaring at the young Jedi angrily.

Maira wasn't so quick to judge. She knew Jack, and highly doubted that he had attacked the girl, as Ruth seemed to think.

"What happened here, Padawan?" she asked quietly, her face carefully neutral. She doubted that Jack had done anything wrong, but if he had…Force help him.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Rosé beat him to it. Stepping away from Ruth, she wiped her makeup-streaked eyes with one hand and tried to smooth her torn gown with the other as she answered, "It was an accident."

When both Ruth and Maira looked at her disbelievingly, she elaborated, "It was. Stupid, really. I was leaning on the balcony wall and I thought I saw someone I knew in a speeder below me. I leaned forward to wave to them, and I slipped, and almost went over, but Padawan Dawson here saved me, and…and almost went over himself."

She stopped, wondering if she'd put too much detail into her lie, but she didn't want the young Jedi who had saved her life getting into trouble because of her, and she didn't want anyone else to know of her suicide attempt, either.

"Was that what happened?" Ruth asked, still looking at Jack suspiciously.

Jack glanced at Rosé, seeing her eyes pleading with him to agree with her.

He nodded. "Yes. Yes, that was pretty much it."

Ruth wrapped an arm around her shaking daughter. "I apologize then, Padawan Dawson. It seemed I misjudged your intent."

Jack shrugged. "You were trying to protect her. It's what a mother does." He had seen plenty of mothers desperately protecting their offspring—even at the cost of their own lives—and knew how powerful a mother's love could be.

"I think perhaps you should go in now," Maira suggested. "All that screaming may have attracted…unwanted attention."

"Of course." Ruth moved towards the open doors, her arm still around her daughter. "Rosé, what were you thinking? You know better than to lean over the wall like that."

As soon as the doors to Rosé's room closed, Maira walked over to Jack, who was straightening his robe and checking his belt, making sure everything was still in place.

"That wasn't what really happened, was it, Jack?" Jack threw up his shields, trying to protect Rosé's secret, but Maira just stared sternly at him. "Padawan, do I have to break through your shields to get the truth?"

Jack sighed, turning his back on his Master and going over to the balcony wall to look out at the city. "No, Master. But she doesn't want anyone to know what really happened."

"I won't tell anyone unless absolutely necessary, Jack. I can keep a secret, but I do need to know what happened here."

Jack turned back to her, tugging nervously on his Padawan braid. "She…she was going to jump, Master. I heard something in her room and came to see what was going on…she'd covered the cameras with clothes, so I couldn't see what was going on. I came out here, and…she was up on the balcony wall, ready to jump off. I tried to use a Force suggestion to get her to come down, but she didn't respond to it, so I talked to her instead. She…said that I should just let her jump and tell you and Mistress DeWitt-Bukater that an assassin pushed her over the balcony, because it was no more than she deserved after what happened to the assassins who came after her and her mother…I told her that she didn't deserve to die, and…eventually she agreed to come down off the wall, and then she slipped…that was why she was screaming, because she was dangling half a kilometer in the air. And then I was finally able to pull her back over with the help of the Force, and we fell…and that was when you found us."

"You didn't almost go over, too, did you?"

"No, Master, though I did tell her that if she jumped, I would jump after her."

Maira put a hand to her forehead. "Padawan…Jack…"

"I meant it, Master. She needed someone who cared enough to do something like that for her." He paused. "Wouldn't you have done the same?"

Maira walked over to the wall, standing beside him. "I don't know, Jack. Perhaps."

"I think you would have. You care about her, too, even though you hardly know her."

"That's enough, Padawan. We don't need to go into the idea of suicide pacts with someone you hardly know any further."

Jack sighed, but let it go. "Master…something puzzles me. She believes she pushed the assassins out the window, but if she wasn't close enough to touch them, how could she have? Only beings who are strong in the Force can do that…"

"I believe she is strong in the Force, but I will have to test her to find out. You're right that that ability doesn't come without the Force…or it's very rare, especially in humans…but more than that, I sense that she is Force-sensitive."

Jack looked down, fiddling with a loose string on his robe. "I sensed her emotions strongly, and I don't usually sense the emotions of non-Force-sensitives that strongly…but her emotions were very powerful. I don't think she would have tried to jump otherwise."

"I will talk to her about it and test her if I get a chance, but I'm almost certain she is strong in the Force—she just doesn't know it, or know how to use that ability."

She looked down at the city. The traffic had thinned somewhat with the lateness of the hour, signaling how long they had been out there.

"We will meditate on all this tomorrow, Jack, but for now it's time to rest. Mistress DeWitt-Bukater had TC-16 set up a room for us, but there are listening devices inside so we can be up at a moment's notice if anything is wrong."

"Yes, Master."

Jack followed her through the main door of the balcony, turning with her once to scan the area before going inside.


	5. Part I: Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Rosé awoke slowly the next morning, huddled beneath the blankets on her sleep couch. She reached down and rubbed her bruised knee, wondering for a moment what had happened.

Then the events of the previous night came back to her in a rush, and she shuddered, pulling the blankets over her head and lying there in misery, wondering if Padawan Dawson had kept her secret and what he thought of her now.

At last, she pushed the blankets away and sat up, her gaze falling on the three security cameras that her mother had insisted she uncover the night before. She stared at them, wondering if she was being watched even now.

A moment later, her door slid open and TC-16 walked in, carrying a breakfast tray. "Mistress Rosé!" the droid exclaimed, setting the tray on the table beside Rosé's sleep couch. "It is good to see you awake. Your mother feared you would sleep the day away."

So someone had been watching her in the security cameras—but not, to her relief, the Jedi. She didn't know why, but having either of them watching her made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the fact that Padawan Dawson had saved her life last night and possibly told his Master what had really happened, but she also felt as though they could read her emotions and know what she was thinking.

There was no reason to believe so, she knew. She wasn't one of them, wasn't a Jedi. She was a Senator's daughter, part of a group known for being crafty and difficult to read. But she couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching her closely—both Knight Jennings and Padawan Dawson. They were watching her for different reasons, she was sure, but the fact remained that they were both keeping a close eye on her.

Rosé climbed off the sleep couch and headed towards her closet. "I will eat soon, TC-16," she told the droid, "but would you help me dress, first?"

"Of course, Mistress Rosé," the droid responded, going to a drawer and withdrawing her corset. Rosé was quite capable of dressing herself, but she needed help in properly tightening the corset that went under most of the gowns she wore on Coruscant or at her father's city home on Arcadia. She was permitted to dress more casually at her father's estate on the edge of the wilderness, but as a Senator's daughter and a high-ranking member of Arcadian society, a greater degree of formality was required in polite company.

After she had dressed and eaten, Rosé slipped out of her room and into the living area of the apartment, finding Maira working on one of the monitors and Jack sketching something as her mother described it.

She stopped for a moment, hesitating, then quietly approached Maira. "Knight Jennings?" She spoke quietly, her hands clenched nervously at her sides.

"Mistress Rosé. What can I do for you?" Maira's voice was coolly polite, but a hint of warmth and concern shone in her eyes.

"I…if your Padawan has a moment, may I speak to him…in private?"

Maira nodded, realizing that Rosé wanted to talk about what had happened the night before. "Of course. He's sketching the Toydarian who attempted to assassinate you and your mother, but I'm sure he'll be willing to speak with you when he's done."

"Thank you." Rosé realized that she was clutching her skirt nervously and let go of it. "I will be on…on the balcony."

Maira gave her a worried look, and Rosé rushed to reassure her. "I won't lean over too far, I promise."

"It isn't that—I'm certain you've learned your lesson about the dangers of balconies—but if an assassin comes while you're out there alone, there will be no one to help you. I would prefer it if you would wait until Padawan Dawson can accompany you. In fact," she added, looking over at Jack as he bowed slightly to Ruth and closed his sketchbook, "it looks like he's about finished. Padawan!" she called, gesturing for Jack to come towards them, "Mistress Rosé would like to speak to you."

"Sure." Jack tucked the sketchbook under his arm, smiling at Rosé.

"Um…I thought we might speak on the balcony, if you feel it's safe enough."

"Go ahead, Padawan," Maira told him. "It's daylight and there are thousands of beings nearby to witness any assassination attempts. Besides, I'm sure you can protect her against any dangers. But if you feel the least bit uncertain, get her inside and call me immediately. I don't feel there is any immediate danger, but it's best to be cautious."

"Yes, Master." Jack nodded, then turned to Rosé. "Mistress Rosé?"

Rosé nodded, allowing Jack to lead the way through her room and out to the balcony, watching for any threats that might present themselves. Once outside, she went to lean on the wall, Jack following her more closely than she would have preferred.

"I'm not going to try to jump again," she assured him, and he backed off a little, though not much.

Rosé looked down, her stomach clenching at the sight of the drop in broad daylight. Her apartment was half a kilometer above the lowest levels of Coruscant, the farthest reaches not even visible in the shadows of the depths of the city. Jack stood beside her, looking out at the vehicles flying by, alert to any danger that might present itself. Finally, Rosé turned to him.

"Padawan Dawson, I—"

"Jack. Call me Jack."

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. "If you will call me Rosé."

"Rosé."

"Jack, I—I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for pulling me back, but for your discretion."

"You're welcome."

Rosé turned from him again, going to sit in an elegant chair in the shadow of a potted tree. Jack followed, standing nearby but not crowding her.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking. You're a Jedi. You've seen all kinds of misery—worlds in turmoil, whole families wiped out, lives destroyed—and here I am, trying to throw my life away because I've lost my father, when so many others are so much worse off than I."

Jack sat in a chair beside her. "No. No, that's not what I'm thinking. Every life has value, and you obviously loved your father very much. Everyone handles grief differently—this was your way. But I am glad you didn't succeed."

"I'd been planning it for hours," Rosé admitted. "I didn't know what to do. It wasn't just the fact that my father was assassinated—it was everything that was happening. When the assassins came back for my mother and me—I didn't think. I just reacted. I jumped in front of my mother to protect her, and I threw my arms forward like it would protect me—and the assassins just flew backwards through the window. I don't understand what happened—but I know it was something I did. I just don't know what."

Jack thought of what Maira had said about Rosé possibly being Force-sensitive. Spying a piece of trash tossed onto the balcony by someone flying by, he asked her, "Did it happen something like this?" He threw his arms out, focusing on the piece of trash, and the ball of flimsiplast flew over the wall.

Rosé stared at him, wide-eyed. "Yes. Yes, it was exactly like that. How did you do that?"

"It's the Force. You can use it to move objects."

"But I…I don't know much of anything about the Force."

"My Master thinks you may be Force-sensitive."

"But…oh, by the heavens. It was me. It was I who killed those assassins. Mother insists it must have been something else—that a blaster must have backfired or some such—but that wasn't it at all. I was right all along. I killed them."

"You did what you had to in order to save yourself and your mother."

"No, I…there must have been another way." Rosé got to her feet, pacing back and forth along the balcony. Finally, she turned back to him. "Jack, have you ever killed anyone?"

He went to stand beside her. "Yes. Yes, I have. More than once. But only when I had to."

Rosé went to stand at the wall again, blinking her eyes rapidly as she stared out at the city. "I am such a fool. You…you've killed many times, and it doesn't bother you. You do what you have to."

"Rosé, I was raised to be a Jedi. Killing is something that you have to do sometimes to save the lives of others. I was taught to release the grief and guilt over such actions into the Force. But it isn't easy. It never is. I was fourteen the first time I had to take a life, and all I could think of afterwards was that this man, who had been alive only moments before—vicious and trying to kill me and another Padawan, to be sure, but alive—was dead. He was just lying there, his eyes open and staring—at me, I was sure—and everything he might have done in the future was wiped away, and he was lost to anyone who might have loved him, anyone who might have been his friend. All it took was one hard thrust from my lightsaber into his heart, and he was gone forever.

"I felt terrible, and it was a long time before I was able to put it behind me. I didn't want to talk about it, though my Master finally got me to. We meditated on it for a long time before I finally understood, deep inside, that there had been no choice. Had I not killed him, he would have killed me and the other Padawan, and then killed those we were trying to protect.

"It was the first time, but not the last. There has never been a time when I had to kill another being that I didn't wish things were different, that I didn't wish there was another way. But sometimes, there isn't. Is it easy? Never. Does it bother me? Every time. Sometimes, though, when that's the only option remaining, it's what you have to do."

Rosé wiped her eyes, embarrassed to be crying in front of him. "I didn't want to kill them."

"No one with a conscience can kill without it leaving something inside them."

"I'll never forget."

"No, but you can't let it destroy you, either. You didn't kill them in cold blood, or to gain anything. You killed them to save the lives of yourself and your mother. You had no choice—even if you didn't mean to kill them. That's what's important."

Rosé gazed out at the city for a few more minutes before replying. "That was part of why I wanted to jump last night. I felt so horrible—so guilty over what I'd done, even though I couldn't prove I'd done anything. But when I got up on the wall—I hesitated. I'd been planning to…to jump for hours, but when I got there—I was afraid. I wanted to do it—but I couldn't. And then you came along…"

"And your pride dictated that you go through with it, even if you didn't want to. You couldn't back down without a good reason…"

"And I couldn't let you jump after me." She turned to look at him. "Jack, would you really have jumped?"

"Yes. I meant every word that I said. I couldn't let you kill yourself."

"Why?"

"I…I just couldn't."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Rosé turned away, searching for something to break the uncomfortable mood. Catching sight of Jack's sketchbook sitting in the chair he had occupied, she went over to it and picked it up.

"What is this thing you're carrying around?" She sat down, opening the cover and shuddering at the sight of the top drawing—the Toydarian who had survived being pushed out the window. "Are you an artist or something?"

Jack sat in the chair beside hers, turning a page in the sketchbook so she wouldn't have to look at the Toydarian. "Yes, I am. I practice whenever I get a chance—and I'm often asked to sketch pictures of suspects as others describe them to me. Your mother described the Toydarian to me."

"It's an excellent likeness."

"That's why I'm called upon so often. I can take the details that a witness remembers and fill in the rest…it's helped in more than one conflict."

Rosé flipped through the sketchbook, her eyes taking in the details of the drawings. "Are all of these of suspects?" she asked, stopping at a drawing that looked suspiciously like Jack's Master.

"No, not all. That one is my Master. She's not suspected of anything except maybe aggravating the Jedi Council and following more closely than they would like in the footsteps of her Master, Qui-Gon Jinn."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"He was…unconventional, to say the least. He's been dead for ten years now—he has the distinction of being the only Jedi killed by a Sith in the last thousand years—but Master Maira has told me about him, even described him to me so I could sketch him." He turned to another drawing, one of a man of about sixty with long hair and calm eyes. "This is him. My Master has told me that he was very strong in the Living Force—strong enough to have overcome death."

"Overcome death?"

"Master Maira insists that she can talk to him sometimes, though no one else has ever been able to. She was his first Padawan, and has followed closely in his footsteps."

Rosé looked at him curiously. Both the Parni and the Nem had legends about ghosts, though she had never seen one herself. She supposed it was possible that such things existed, but this was the first time someone she knew had claimed to be able to communicate with them.

Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she turned to another drawing, this one of a Jedi Padawan with close-cropped hair and a braid much like Jack's. "I take it this another person who isn't a suspect?"

Jack chuckled, looking at the drawing. "Some Jedi are very suspicious of him, mainly because he didn't grow up like the rest of us. This is a friend of mine, Anakin Skywalker. He was brought to the Temple at nine years old, much older than the rest of us."

"How old were the rest of you?"

"Less than a year old, for the most part, and none much older than a year. I was three months old when I was brought to the Temple."

"Why so young?"

"Jedi are not supposed to have any attachments—not to a particular world, nor to particular individuals. It's supposed to make us impartial and able to help anyone without taking sides. The fact that Anakin came to the Temple so late meant that he had an attachment to his mother."

"Do you know who your parents are?"

"I know who they were, but I haven't met them since I was an infant. I never will, either, since they died in a fire when I was fifteen."

Rosé gasped. "Oh, Jack, how awful! I'm so sorry to hear that."

"I don't remember them at all. I was too young to remember when I was brought to Coruscant, and though I've been to my home planet, Corellia, since then, I never met them. Master Maira is the closest thing to a mother that I've ever known."

"I've never met my birth parents, either," Rosé admitted. "I was adopted at birth—my mother was widowed in the civil war and couldn't keep me, and I assume her husband was my father."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You look like Mistress DeWitt-Bukater…at least, you have the same color hair."

"It's a coincidence—red hair is very common amongst the Parni. People remarked more on how much I resembled my father—Cleon Bukater, that is. He would always laugh slightly and change the subject—I don't think he wanted to talk about my being adopted. He always assured me that I was just as precious to him as a child born to him and my adoptive mother would have been." She paused, resting her chin in her hands. "I don't know what my birth mother looked like, and the only thing I have of hers is a necklace with a magnificent blue stone in the pendant—I've never seen another quite like it, though a colleague of my father's, Senator Amidala, says that such stones are found deep in the core of her home planet, Naboo."

Jack turned to another drawing. "I've never met her, but after Anakin saw her on the holonet, he talked me into sketching this picture of her. Apparently he met her when he was nine years old and has been thinking about her ever since."

"That sounds like an attachment."

"I think it is." Jack gave her an ironic look. "Yes, I know Jedi are not supposed to form attachments, but as my Master has often said, the ideal and the reality aren't always—or even often—the same thing."

Rosé smiled slightly. "I think my father and your Master would have gotten along well—he said much the same thing about the Senate. He always tried to work for democracy and for what was best for everyone, but many Senators are only in it for whatever power and wealth they can grab for themselves and their cronies." She frowned then, looking at the drawing of Senator Amidala again. "Padmé—Senator Amidala—is another who believes in the ideals of democracy. And she's been the target of an assassination attempt, too."

Jack nodded. "I know. Anakin and his Master, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, were sent to protect her the day before my Master and I were sent to protect you and your mother."

Rosé frowned. "I hope she's all right. I consider her to be a friend, and she came to visit after my father was assassinated. They often believed in the same principles."

Jack looked at her reassuringly. "I believe Anakin will do anything in his power—and that's a considerable amount—to protect her, as attached to her as he seems to be."

Rosé sighed. "I hope so. Too many have been hurt or killed already." She closed the sketchbook, handing it back to him. "Thank you, Jack."

"For what?"

"For talking to me about all that's happened. I…feel a little better now, especially about…about pushing those assassins out the window. I still wish it hadn't happened, but…"

"But you understand that it doesn't make you a bad person, and that you wouldn't have reacted that way if they hadn't been threatening you and your mother."

Rosé turned to him. "You said that meditation helped you get through it…the first time you had to kill someone. Perhaps the same would work for me. Could you show me?"

He nodded. "Sure. Whenever you want. But," he added, looking towards one of the doors and seeing Maira stepping outside, "I think my Master wants to talk to you first, probably about being Force-sensitive. Maybe after that, I can show you how to meditate."

She glanced away from him, her gaze focusing on Maira, who was approaching them quietly. "Yes. If she'll allow you to do so."

Jack smiled. "I think she will. She seems to have a soft spot when it comes to you."


	6. Part I: Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Rosé and Jack stood as Maira approached them, Jack bowing slightly and acknowledging her presence.

"Master."

"Padawan." Maira bowed slightly as well, then looked at Rosé. "Mistress Rosé, I would like to speak to you—in private—if you are finished with your conversation with Padawan Dawson."

Rosé clutched her skirt nervously. "We have finished speaking for now. Later, though…he said he might teach me to meditate if you approved," she blurted out, the words coming out in a rush.

Maira raised an eyebrow at her Padawan, who looked sheepish. "I'm sorry, Master. I thought it might help her."

"You can show her how to meditate…but only if I'm there. You're not ready to be teaching yet, and she's not a Jedi."

Jack sighed. "Yes, Master."

Maira nodded, knowing he would keep his word. She turned her attention back to Rosé. "Mistress Rosé, there is something I would like to speak to you about, if you have the time."

Rosé sank back into her seat. "Of course. I have nothing scheduled for today." She indicated the seat beside her. "You can sit there if you want."

Maira nodded, then turned to her Padawan for a moment. "Jack, please go inside and keep watch. Mistress DeWitt-Bukater is in the gathering area. See that she's safe. I'll call you if I need you," she added, gesturing in the direction of the main entrance from the balcony.

"Yes, Master." Jack bowed, then turned towards the door.

When he had gone inside, Maira turned to Rosé. "If I am not mistaken, my impetuous young Padawan has already given you an idea of what I want to talk to you about."

Rosé blushed, bowing her head and pretending great interest in the embroidery on her gown. "He—he said that you thought I was Force-sensitive."

"Yes."

Rosé looked up, her hands clenching and unclenching around her skirt. "What does that mean, exactly?" she asked. "Jack…uh…Padawan Dawson said that you think I'm Force-sensitive, and demonstrated how the Force can be used to move something without touching it…but I'm not a Jedi. I don't know much about the Force." She let go of her skirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

Maira raised an eyebrow at the girl, noticing the use of her Padawan's first name. "The Force can be used to move objects—or beings—without touching them. The fact that you pushed the three assassins through the window is what leads me to believe you are Force-sensitive."

"But how?" Rosé got to her feet and began pacing back and forth across the balcony. "I don't…I mean, doesn't a person have to be trained to do that?"

"To do it consciously, yes—or a person has to at least be aware of the ability. It's not unknown for Force-sensitive individuals to figure out how to use their abilities on their own. But many Force-sensitives have used their talents unconsciously—especially in times of danger."

"And you think that's what I did?"

"I'm almost sure of it."

"Almost?"

"There's a test that needs to be performed for Force-sensitivity."

"A test? Do you need me to do something?" Rosé wasn't certain she liked the sound of this.

Maira shook her head. "Actually, I need a small blood sample." She pulled a kit from inside a pocket of her robe. "Are you afraid of needles?"

"Not really, but I've never liked being poked by them, either. With all the amazing things we can do with technology, why is it that no one has invented a way to draw blood without opening the skin?"

Maira shrugged. "I don't know, but it's probably just as well. If there were such a technique, someone would undoubtedly be using it for a weapon."

Rosé thought of her father, of the bleeding wounds left after all three assassins had shot him with blasters. He'd never had a chance.

"You're probably right," she acknowledged, looking at the small kit.

Maira opened it, extracting a clean needle and an alcohol swab to disinfect the skin. Rosé winced when the needle penetrated her skin, but it was over in seconds. Maira put the sample into her comlink, quickly tapping in the code for the lab at the Jedi Temple.

Rosé watched with interest as the holographic form of an unbelievably tiny Jedi appeared. "Knight Jennings," the tiny creature greeted her. "How can I help you?"

"I need you to analyze the midichlorian count in this blood sample," she replied, fitting the sample more firmly into the comlink.

"I'll have it for you in a few minutes," the creature promised, turning to a small microscope.

"Thank you." Maira looked over at Rosé, putting a hand over the needle mark and directing a small wave of Force energy into the wound.

Rosé stared in amazement as the needle mark disappeared, leaving only a tiny smear of blood behind. "How did you do that?"

Maira smiled. "I wasn't trained as a healer, but most of us do learn to use the Force for healing somewhat—it saves lives."

She returned her attention to the holographic image as the creature turned from the microscope and back to her. "Knight Jennings, I have the midichlorian count."

"Thank you. What is it?"

"Eleven thousand."

Maira bowed, smiling. "Thank you, Healer Criv. Knight Jennings out."

"What does eleven thousand mean?" Rosé asked as soon as the holographic image disappeared.

"It means you're Force-sensitive. Your midichlorian count isn't unusually high—quite a few Jedi, including myself and Padawan Dawson, have a midichlorian count in that range. Were you tested as an infant?"

Rosé shook her head. "No. My father said that he hadn't wanted to adopt me only to have to give me up, so he didn't permit me to be tested."

Maira nodded, a small smile crossing her face. "Mistress Rosé…"

"Please, just call me Rosé. I asked the same of Jack…ah…Padawan Dawson."

"You can call him Jack, since he's given you permission to do so." She hesitated a moment, considering. "You may call me Maira, if you wish."

"Maira." Rosé nodded respectfully.

"Rosé, even though your midichlorian count is as high as many Jedi's, you cannot be trained as a Jedi."

"Because I'm too old? Jack said that most Jedi are brought to the Temple before they are a year old."

Maira nodded. "Exactly. You cannot be trained, but your Force-sensitivity may prove advantageous in other arenas—politics, for example. I would caution you, though, not to be too open about being strong in the Force—these are dangerous times, and there are beings who hate anyone strong in the Force, Jedi or not."

"Will I be allowed to learn to meditate?"

Maira nodded. "Meditation is practiced in many cultures—it's hardly unique to the Jedi. And you may be able to tap into the Force that way—Jack and I won't train you, but you may figure out how on your own."

"Jack said that it might help me get past…what I did two days ago…killing those assassins…"

"It might. Killing someone is something that many a young Jedi has to meditate on—in fact, almost all of those training to be Jedi have to learn about that before they become knights, though less so for those whose path lies with healing or teaching."

She got to her feet, gesturing to Rosé to join her. "I need to speak with Jack now, but later—perhaps after the midday meal—we can teach you the basics of meditation."

Rosé nodded, bowing slightly. "Thank you."

XXXXX

Jack was standing in front of the transparisteel window, looking out at the city, when Maira approached him.

"Jack."

He turned to her. "Yes, Master?"

"I need to talk to you about Rosé."

Jack looked at her curiously, noticing that she had dropped the formal title. "What about her?"

"First of all, yes, she has given me permission to call her by her first name, as she has you. Second, she is Force-sensitive. Her midichlorian count is eleven thousand."

"The same as yours."

"Yes, and only slightly lower than yours."

"Will someone train her as a Jedi?"

"No, Jack. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've noticed your interest in her, and I don't want you training her in any of the Jedi arts. She's too old to be trained as a Jedi, and such knowledge can be dangerous in the wrong hands."

"Anakin was brought to the Temple at age nine…"

"But he was still a child then, and many objected to his being trained."

"Some Jedi still object."

"I doubt anyone would agree to Rosé being trained. She's seventeen, almost an adult by Republic law. You may teach her the basics of meditation, and if you want to show her your art, that's fine, too. If she wants you to train her in forms of combat outside those used by the Jedi, you may also do that. These are dangerous times, and she needs to know how to defend herself, as does her mother if she is willing to learn. But don't try to train her to be a Jedi."

Jack turned back to the window. "I won't, Master."

"Jack, look at me when you say that."

Jack turned back to look at her, but didn't quite meet her eyes. "I won't teach her, Master."

Maira sighed, looking at him severely. "You'd best keep your word, Padawan. You won't like the consequences if you don't."

"I know, Master."


	7. Part I: Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

_Three Days Later_

Rosé sat before her dressing table, looking in the mirror as TC-16 arranged her hair in an elaborate upsweep. She was already dressed for the evening, with only her makeup and jewelry left to add, which she would do after the droid left to help her mother.

Tonight was her betrothal dinner. She grimaced at the thought. Caledon had made all the arrangements, not asking for any input from her, inviting the most influential Senators—those who could make or break his career if indeed he was elected Arcadia's new Senator—and his chances seemed very good.

She supposed she should be happy for him—she herself would enjoy a great deal of influence if he became a Senator, at least in their social circles if not in the political arena itself.

And yet, she couldn't help but hope that someone else would win. Caledon had been one of her father's aides, but Cleon had often expressed frustration at the man's lack of compassion and tolerance. She had been very surprised when her parents had arranged the marriage between herself and Caledon, but early on, it had been just what she had wanted.

Rosé had taken an interest in politics from an early age, but Parni women were rarely permitted much open influence in the way things were run. Many a woman had become a force to be reckoned with behind the scenes, but the credit almost invariably went to the men in charge. Rosé had always thought it unfair—after all, amongst the Nem, women had the greater influence—but there was nothing she could do to change things. Her father had recognized her sharp mind and begun bringing her with him to Senate sessions three years before, when she was fourteen. It was there that she had first met Caledon.

He had paid little attention to her at first, and she had been happy enough to ignore him, sensing that her father had hired him only as a favor to an old friend, Nathan Hockley, Caledon's father, but when she had turned sixteen—marriageable age for a Parni woman—Caledon had suddenly become much more attentive.

She had been confused at first—he had never paid much attention to her before, and she didn't think very highly of him—but he had persisted, greeting her cheerfully and engaging her in conversation, inviting her out to eat with him, bringing her increasingly elaborate gifts—it wasn't long before she began to think she had misjudged him, and even her father had been surprised at his change in attitude.

When Nathan Hockley had approached Cleon about arranging a marriage between his son and Cleon's daughter, Rosé had begged her father to agree, and finally, he had done so, though not without reservations. In his years in the Senate, he had seen all sorts of ploys to gain something, and he hadn't fully trusted Caledon. But Rosé had wanted the betrothal, and Ruth had also thought it a good match, and so he had agreed.

It wasn't long before Caledon had gone back to his old ways. He still brought her gifts—such was expected from a man of his position—but he no longer took an interest in what she thought or even paid much attention to her most of the time. She was always on his arm at political functions, and at social ones, but in more private settings he usually ignored her. When she joined them at Senate sessions, he treated her as though she was an interloper, a person of no worth who was trying to join in something she couldn't possibly understand.

Rosé had grown more unhappy with the betrothal as time passed, and Cleon, who suspected that Caledon had sought the match so that he would have a better chance of becoming the next Arcadian Senator, had been on the verge of breaking the betrothal in spite of the consequences when he had been assassinated.

Caledon had been very sympathetic, both in public and in private, though Rosé doubted he was as sorry as he seemed. Of course, as the late Senator's soon-to-be son-in-law, he was gaining a great deal of support on Arcadia both amongst those who maintained that political power should be passed down to family members and those who sympathized with the grieving daughter and her soon-to-be husband.

Now Rosé had little choice but to go through with the marriage—it was a matter of family honor that she do so. The social and political consequences of ending the betrothal now, especially with so many Parni favoring Caledon to be the next Senator, were unthinkable—or so her mother kept reminding her.

Rosé was drawn from her thoughts as TC-16 finished with her hair and announced that it was going to help her mother unless she needed further assistance.

"Thank you, TC-16. I'll be fine—I'm almost ready."

As the protocol droid shuffled out of the room, Rosé turned her attention to the locked container holding her jewelry. Punching in the code, she opened it and examined the items inside, finally selecting an elaborate pair of earrings and a necklace that she rarely wore but was one of her most prized possessions.

She examined the blue Nubian stone before putting the necklace on, admiring, as she always did, the way the gem seemed to catch and reflect the light with a life of its own. It was all she had to remind her of the unknown woman who had given birth to her over seventeen years before.

She wondered about her for a moment. Who had she been? She must have been wealthy, for Senator Amidala had told her that such stones were rare and usually passed on from parent to child, and were rarely sold except for in the direst of straits. She wondered how her birth mother had come to possess the gem, but realized that she would probably never know. Adoption records were tightly sealed on Arcadia, and her parents had never given any indication that they knew who her birth parents had been, only that her mother had been widowed in the civil war before she was born.

She had long wondered, though, why her mother, a woman of obvious wealth, had given her up. Surely she would have been able to care for her, to give her what she needed. Even if she had lost her wealth during the war, the necklace alone was worth millions of credits—more than enough to care for a child and keep both of them more than comfortable.

Deep inside, she had concluded, uncomfortably, that she hadn't been wanted. She knew that she had been better off with two loving adoptive parents than with a birth mother who didn't want her, but she still wondered why. But if the woman who had given birth to her hadn't wanted her, then what might the woman who raised her, who had only adopted her, do if she went against her wishes in important matters?

Would Ruth reject her and send her away if she broke the betrothal to Caledon?

Rosé didn't want to find out. It would be so much easier if Caledon decided that he didn't want the marriage—though the rejection would sting. But as it was, she felt that she had no choice but to go through with the marriage three standard months from now—no matter how she dreaded it.


	8. Part I: Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Maira looked up as the door to Rosé's room slid open and she stepped out, dressed in an elaborate blue and white gown accentuated by a glittering blue pendant. Her eyes lingered on the rare blue gem for a moment as Rosé bowed slightly to her in greeting.

"Rosé." Maira acknowledged the greeting.

"Maira." Rosé looked around. "Where's Jack?"

"He's gone ahead to the banquet hall where your dinner will be held to check the security and the guest list. I will be escorting you, your mother, and your betrothed there."

Rosé nodded, looking less than enthusiastic at the mention of Caledon. "Thank you."

Maira nodded, turning as the chime sounded on the entrance door of the apartment. When she opened the door, Caledon strode in, brushing past her without a greeting and walking straight to Rosé.

"Sweetpea!" he greeted her, sweeping back his lavish cloak and kissing her quickly, unmindful of the fact that both Maira and Ruth were watching. Stepping back, his eyes swept over her, noting her expensive jewelry with approval. "You're looking lovely tonight." He turned to acknowledge Rosé's mother. "As are you, Ruth."

Rosé stepped away from him, pretending to make sure her elaborate hairdo was still in place. "Thank you, Caledon."

"Are you ready, ladies?" Caledon flashed the DeWitt-Bukater women a broad smile, reminding Maira uncannily of a scam artist she and Jack had once been forced to defend when some of his more unsavory "clients" had decided to take the law into their own hands.

He headed for the door, Rosé on his arm and Ruth following close behind, only to be brought up short as Maira stepped in front of the door, holding up her hand.

"Wait," she instructed them, palming the door open and scanning the hallway before allowing the others the proceed.

Rosé nodded, understanding, but Caledon looked affronted. "Surely there's no need for—"

"There have been numerous assassination attempts in this building, some of them successful—and not all of them easy to detect. For your safety, I will go ahead of you and make sure there are no threats."

"This is ridiculous," Caledon muttered, glaring at Maira as she walked ahead of them. "I told you before, Ruth—I can hire all the security you need. There's no need to involve the Jedi in this."

"It's only until the assassin is caught," Rosé reassured him. "So many have been targeted…I'm told the Chancellor himself approved the Jedi intervention."

Caledon gave her a patronizing look, as though she was speaking of something she didn't understand. "Enough about this assassin, Sweetpea…tonight is our betrothal dinner, and there's no need to discuss this now…I don't believe you quite comprehend what is going on, anyway."

"I comprehend enough," Rosé murmured, but she quieted when Caledon tightened his grip on her arm warningly, her mouth setting in a tight line of discontent.

Rosé's spirits lifted somewhat when they reached the banquet hall in one of Coruscant's finest restaurants, which Caledon had reserved for the occasion. Elaborately attired guests of various species mingled, talking and laughing, many of whom had worked closely with her father.

She couldn't help but smile when one guest—who, by Caledon's expression, she guessed had been invited only for the sake of being polite—came to greet her, nearly knocking her over in his enthusiasm.

"Rosie DeWitt-Boo-kata!" Jar-Jar Binks, Naboo's Gungan representative, screeched in greeting. "Meesa muy muy happy to see yousa alive! Senator Amidala no can be here, 'cause—"

"That's enough, Jar-Jar."

Rosé looked up as another guest came towards them, rubbing her arm after the overexcited Gungan had shaken her hand just a bit too hard. She raised her eyebrows in surprise as Chancellor Palpatine put a calming hand on Binks' shoulder.

"Oh…oh! Meesa go!" Jar-Jar turned to leave, tangling his feet in the legs of a chair and knocking over the chair and a waiter who had been circulating with trays of appetizers.

Caledon, Rosé, and Palpatine watched the Gungan in amusement for a moment before the Chancellor turned back to the couple.

Rosé was still surprised by the Chancellor's presence—Caledon was indeed rising fast in the political arena if the Chancellor was attending the betrothal dinner of a mere Senatorial aide. She was also faintly disturbed by his presence—her father had never thought very highly of Chancellor Palpatine, regarding him as appearing just a little too perfect while many serious and growing problems in the galaxy went ignored.

Caledon, however, had no such reservations. "Chancellor Palpatine, I'm pleased you could be here." He smiled, bowing slightly.

"Congratulations, Senator Hockley. She's splendid."

Caledon laughed, ignoring Rosé's look of surprise and dismay. "Now, I'm not the Senator yet, Chancellor."

"Ah, but you will be. I'm sure of it." The Chancellor turned as someone called his name, nodding to Caledon and Rosé before disappearing into the crowd.

Caledon turned to Rosé, ready to lecture her for her less-than-polite response to the Chancellor's congratulations, but she pulled away from him, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Excuse me, Caledon. I believe I see a friend over there…" She hurried into the crowd before he could say a word, leaving him staring after her with a faintly dumbfounded expression on his face.

Caledon, Rosé, and their guests sat down to dinner an hour later. Rosé, keeping an eye out for the two Jedi assigned to protect them, noticed with surprise that they weren't eating, but were instead posted on opposite sides of the room, watching closely for any sign of trouble.

She frowned, wondering if their greater vigilance was because of the public occasion, or because there had been word of an actual threat. Maira had just been switching off her comlink when Rosé had emerged from her room, but she had said nothing. Had someone made a threat, or had it been a simple conversation?

She was about to try to catch Jack's eye when Caledon stood, gesturing to her to rise also. Lifting a glass filled with fine Arcadian wine, he waited a moment while silence spread throughout the room.

"Everyone, I would like to officially announce the betrothal of myself, Caledon Hockley of Arcadia, to Rosé DeWitt-Bukater, daughter of the late Senator Cleon Bukater of Arcadia." He turned to Rosé as she bowed her head, wishing fervently that her father was still alive, and wishing almost as fervently that she were not betrothed to this man. He smiled, tilting her chin up, mistaking the reason for her reticence. "Rosé and I will be married in the city of Telsni on Arcadia three standard months from today. All our guests here are invited." He emphasized the word 'guests' slightly, making it clear, as least to Rosé, that the two Jedi were not included in the invitation. "Now, may I make a toast to my lovely bride, and—"

The door to the banquet hall slid open, admitting four scruffy-looking beings—two humans, a Toydarian, and a Rodian. "Are we included in that invitation?" one of the humans boomed, raising a blaster as the two Jedi rushed to intercept the intruders.

"Get down!" Caledon pushed Rosé to the floor, glancing at Ruth, who was already ducking beneath the table. Cina followed her lead, as did a number of others.

Jack and Maira had managed to disarm two of the intruders before they could raise their weapons, but the human who had first raised his blaster had gotten past them in the sudden chaos and was firing at an elderly Senator. The old man went down, clutching his shoulder, but as the human assassin moved to finish him off, his hand found a glass of wine, flinging into the assassin's face and distracting him long enough for Jack to tackle him, knocking him to the ground and using the Force to overcome the man's greater weight and strength.

Jack almost had the would-be assassin restrained when a shot from another blaster narrowly missed him, instead severing the assassin's bonds. The assassin took advantage of the split second of distraction and threw Jack off, grabbing his blaster from where it had landed a meter away and looking for his target, who had by this time been pulled away by several other guests and was hiding behind a table lying on its side.

Jack had landed on his feet and joined the battle again in an instant, his lightsaber deflecting blaster shots from attackers and guests alike. Maira's lightsaber, too, spun around, deflecting the blasts while she pushed guests out of the way of the battle and fought the Rodian, who had decided to take her out himself.

A wave of Jack's hand sent a half-filled wine bottle smashing into the human he had disarmed when the battle first began as she tried to get up and join in the fray, her unusually elastic bone structure having allowed her slip out of her restraints. She fell to the floor, unconscious, as the bottle broke over her head, reeking of the finest wine Arcadia had to offer.

"Jack!"

He turned, the Force speeding his step and vaulting him over scattered tables and chairs as he rushed to Maira's aid. The Rodian had grabbed a Senatorial aide who had made the mistake of trying to help Maira was holding his blaster to the young being's head, using her as a hostage while demanding that the Jedi put down her lightsaber.

"Let her go." Jack held his lightsaber to the Rodian's back. "Give me the blaster and let her go."

The Rodian sneered at him contemptuously, giving the guest a chance to try to twist out of his grasp. Both Jack and Maira lunged forward, but the Rodian pulled the trigger, sending the young aide crumpling lifelessly to the ground. Almost as quickly, he turned the blaster on Maira, but before he could pull the trigger, her lightsaber sliced through his short neck, sending his head tumbling from his body.

A shriek sounded from halfway across the room as a table overturned, exposing Ruth, Rosé, and Cina. The Toydarian and the human who had been pursuing the elderly Senator before pointed their blasters at the three women, but even as Jack and Maira came running, Cina latched onto one of the legs of the Toydarian, pulling him out of the air and sending him crashing to the ground, almost dropping the blaster in his hand as he fell. In an instant, Cina was on him, pummeling him with her strong fists. He yowled in pain as his nose broke, his blaster discharging in the air and narrowly missing Caledon, who jumped out of the way with reflexes still remembered from his days at the Temple. He came running towards them, the blaster he had been firing wildly throughout the melee still in his hand, though now out of fuel.

The human had grabbed Rosé when Cina had attacked the Toydarian, taking advantage of the distraction. He grabbed her necklace, pulling her towards him, but the strength of the chain proved too great for him to be able to break it, leaving her face to face with him and staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"You killed my brother, you little…"

Rosé was staring at him, her mind reeling. She hadn't wanted to kill his brother—she felt terrible about it, even after meditating on it—but she didn't want to die, either.

A glimmer of an idea came into her mind as she remembered the way Jack had waved his hand as he had tried to convince her to come down from the balcony wall. Could the Force be used to convince beings of things? It hadn't worked on her, but still…

"You don't want to hurt me," she gasped, waving a hand uncertainly in the man's face.

"What?" He stared at her as though she had lost her mind.

"You don't want—"

Her words were cut off as Jack slammed into her attacker, knocking him away from her and breaking his grip on her necklace. He tackled the would-be assassin to the floor for the second time that evening, catching the restraints that Maira tossed to him and binding the man's hands behind his back. He took the assassin's blaster and put it into his belt, ensuring that the man couldn't get it if he escaped a second time.

Rosé burst into tears in delayed reaction, running to her mother and clinging to her. Caledon tried to comfort her, but she batted at his hands, pushing him away. She wanted no part of him at the moment.

Cina let go of the Toydarian, who flew through a shattered window slowly and painfully, his wings looking as battered as the rest of him after Cina's beating. Cina hurried to Rosé, making comforting gestures and looking at Caledon suspiciously.

The female human who Jack had hit with wine bottle had regained consciousness and slunk away before the battle ended, leaving only the dead Rodian and the male human in the banquet hall.

With the guests—all of whom but one had survived—gathering around them, the Jedi pulled the captured human to his feet and pushed him into a chair. Maira gripped the front of his tunic and looked him in the eye.

"Who sent you? Who's responsible for these assassinations?"

The man looked at her but said nothing, his eyes shifting from her to the gathered guests, all of whom were staring at him with unmasked hostility.

Jack stepped forward, leaning close enough that the man tried to move away from him. "Who sent you?" He waved his hand. "Answer me now."

"I…it was—"

Before he could answer, Caledon stepped forward, grabbing a handful of the man's greasy hair and pulling his head back. "And why did you put your hands on my betrothed?" He yanked on the man's hair, drawing a groan of pain from him. "Answer me, you filth!"

"Mister Hockley, please let him go. This is Jedi business—" Maira began, but Caledon did not give her a chance to continue.

"I was doing what—" the man began, just as Caledon slammed his head forward. There was a sickening crack, and when he let go, the man's head hung at an unnatural angle.

"His neck is broken." Maira's voice was calm, but inwardly she was struggling not to strike out at the fool who had just killed their best chance at stopping the assassinations.

"I-I'm sorry," Caledon stammered, though his tone lacked conviction. "When I saw Rosé in his grasp…"

"He was about to confess!" Jack stepped forward, his eyes flashing angrily, but Maira laid a calming hand on his arm.

_/Let it go, Padawan/_

_/He might have been able to tell us who was behind these assassinations/_

_/Perhaps, but there's nothing we can do now except continue to protect the DeWitt-Bukaters and hope another lead is found/_

_/This isn't right, Master/_

_/No, it isn't—but now you know one of the many reasons why Caledon Hockley was never chosen as a Padawan. He was always too impulsive and foul-tempered. I know you're angry, but release that anger into the Force. Sinking to his level won't help anything, and it will get you in trouble/_

Caledon was staring at Jack he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, reluctantly releasing his anger at Rosé's betrothed into the Force. He opened his eyes, much calmer now.

"He was about to confess," he told Caledon, looking at the body of the assassin.

"I doubt that. Someone like him would never tell the truth, no matter what you did to him. All you would have gotten out of him was lies."

"Perhaps, but it was not for you to decide whether he lived or died, Mr. Hockley." Maira stepped in, quietly instructing her Padawan to find those needing medical treatment and do what he could for them.

"I didn't mean to break his neck." Caledon looked at Rosé, who was staring at him in horror, and at Cina, who was eyeing him with contempt. Ruth was still trying to comfort Rosé, her back to him.

Maira turned away in disgust and went to help her Padawan, who was leaning over the elderly Senator who had been shot with a blaster. The man was talking and aware of his surroundings, though in obvious pain, but she knew that she could no more for him than Jack could, so she turned away, looking for others who needed help and putting some distance between herself and Caledon Hockley. As much as she had told Jack to release his anger into the Force, Hockley was one of those individuals who could rouse anger in the most serene of beings.

Caledon, meanwhile, was trying to talk to Rosé and explain his actions. She wouldn't let him to come near her at first, shocked at his violent reaction to the man who had attacked her, but at last Ruth coaxed her into sitting beside him.

He took her hand as she stared at him, resisting the urge to wrench her hand away from his. "Rosé…Sweetpea…"

"Please don't call me that."

He ignored her and went on. "When I saw him holding onto you, I couldn't think of anything but that you might be badly hurt or killed. What if he had broken your neck? I saw the way he was holding onto your necklace." He traced the red line where the necklace had dug into her skin, holding her hand tighter as she winced and tried to pull away.

"Caledon…"

"Rosé, I can't stand to see anything happen to you."

Rosé pulled her hand away, her eyes dry now. "He had been disarmed and restrained when you killed him."

"I was angry. I won't deny it. But I was trying to get answers out of him, not kill him. Breaking his neck was accidental."

"But the result was his death, whether you meant to kill him or not."

"As was the result when you pushed those assassins out the window of your apartment."

Rosé stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. She hadn't shared the story of how those assassins had died with him, and could only assume that her mother had told him.

"How—how did you know about that?" she whispered.

"Your mother told me—or at least she told me that you believe you pushed the assassins out the window. I don't see how you could have, though, unless you can use the Force." He looked closely at her. "Are you Force-sensitive, Rosé?"

"I…not that I know of," she lied, instinctively keeping her newfound potential from him. "I would have been sent to the Jedi as a baby if I was, wouldn't I?"

"Probably," he answered, but he eyed her intently just the same. She turned away uncomfortably.

"Mistress DeWitt-Bukater, Mistress Rosé, Mister Hockley."

Maira came back to them, Jack following. The restaurant's host had called the authorities shortly after the four assassins had entered the banquet hall, alarming other diners who didn't think the scruffy group belonged there. The Coruscant police had finally arrived, along with emergency medical personnel. The police were interviewing the guests and looking over the bodies of the Rodian, the human assassin, and the young Senatorial aide. Those who had been injured in the battle were being cared for.

"Once the police have spoken to you and someone has taken a look at Mistress Rosé's neck, we will be returning to 500 Republica with you. After that, we must talk and decide what to do. After the incident tonight, I don't believe it is safe for the DeWitt-Bukaters to remain on Coruscant, and perhaps not for Mister Hockley or Cina, either, although neither of you seem to have been targeted so far." Caledon began to protest, but Maira held up a hand. "This is not open to debate. This is a very dangerous situation, especially with no leads." She looked significantly at Caledon. "We will make no decisions here, but when we return to 500 Republica, we will discuss this and decide upon the best course of action."


	9. Part I: Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

When they reached the Bukaters' apartment at 500 Republica, Maira and Jack made sure the place was secure and no intruders were lurking within, then slipped into the room they shared to contact the Jedi Council in privacy.

The Council had already convened by the time Maira punched the code on her comlink and their forms appeared before herself and Jack. They had already heard about the attack on the betrothal party and had been discussing what to do.

Maira and Jack bowed respectfully when the Council appeared, Maira speaking in greeting. "Masters."

"Heard we did about the incident tonight," Yoda told her, looking at the images that had appeared through the Council's comlink.

"This is the third attack on the Bukaters," Maira reported, "although they appear to have not been the only targets this time. An elderly Senator who opposes the Military Creation Act was also targeted, but survived with only minor injuries."

"It was reported that a Senatorial aide was killed," Mace Windu spoke up, leaning forward and looking at Maira and Jack. "Is this true?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to say," Maira responded. "She was attempting to assist me when a Rodian assassin took her hostage. He shot her with his blaster when she tried to twist out of his grip."

"Were either of the Bukaters injured?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"A human male tried to take Mistress Rosé prisoner by pulling on her necklace, causing the chain to dig into her neck, but aside from some red marks and a little soreness, she's fine. Mistress DeWitt-Bukater was not harmed."

"Feel we do that safe on Coruscant the Bukaters are not until captured the one ordering the assassinations is," Yoda said, tapping his gimer stick for emphasis.

"We came to the same conclusion after this incident," Maira replied, "but what about Mister Hockley and Cina? They don't appear to have been targeted, but in light of the attacks against the Bukaters, I fear they may become targets if the Bukaters leave."

"We've thought of that," Windu responded, "but as they have not yet been targeted, and there is no evidence pointing to them becoming targets, it is up to them whether they stay or go. Cina of the Lion Clan is Arcadia's only official representative at the moment; if she leaves, Arcadia will be unrepresented in the Senate until a new Senator is elected. We are aware that Mister Hockley is favored to become the next Arcadian Senator, but he has not been elected yet. He could be a target if someone wishes to prevent him from becoming Senator, but from all reports he has little opposition."

"The Chancellor seems to favor him as Arcadia's next Senator, too," Jack added, bringing surprised looks from Maira and the Council.

"How do you know this, Padawan?" Maira wanted to know, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I overheard him speaking to Mister Hockley while the guests were mingling at the dinner."

Yoda listened to this bit of information thoughtfully. "Interesting, this is. Influence Mister Hockley's chances, the Chancellor's support may."

"It is up to him and to Cina whether they wish to remain on Coruscant or not," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "But the Bukaters must be taken to safety. Whoever is ordering these assassinations is clever. Senator Amidala of Naboo was nearly killed in her sleeping quarters two nights ago when a would-be assassin cut a hole in the transparisteel of her window and released two kouhuns into the room. We cannot rule out a similar attempt on the Bukaters."

"Where should they go, and will we be accompanying them?" Maira inquired, looking around at the members of the Jedi Council.

"Accompany them you will to Arcadia, to their estate in the wilderness. Stay with them you will until passed the threat has," Yoda told her.

"A transport going to various planets in the Outer Rim is leaving in two days," Windu added. "You will accompany the Bukaters aboard it, disguised as migrants."

Maira nodded. "Yes, Master." She and Jack bowed.

"May the Force be with you, Knight Jennings and Padawan Dawson."

XXXXX

When Jack and Maira returned to the living area of the apartment, Rosé was sitting on a couch, leaning against her mother. Cina was standing in front of her, a container of some strong-smelling herbal concoction in her hand as she examined the girl's neck, which looked to be healing rapidly under her ministrations.

Caledon was pacing back and forth impatiently, stopping occasionally to glare at the three women. He had tried to sit beside Rosé at first, but she had pushed him away, still upset over his violent behavior. Ruth occasionally looked at him with sympathy, more relieved than she would ever let on that the man who had attacked her daughter was dead. Though he might have held the key to solving the assassinations, she was glad that he could no longer pose a threat to her daughter or to herself.

He stopped pacing when the Jedi stepped into the room, giving them a carefully neutral look. He hadn't appreciated it when they had lectured him over killing the would-be assassin, especially in front of so many people he wanted to impress, but he didn't dare to say so now. Rosé was angry enough as it was, and Cina had been more than disapproving of his behavior—and both had more influence on Arcadia than they realized. He would do nothing to jeopardize his chances of becoming the next Arcadian Senator.

Maira and Jack stood before them, waiting, until they had their attention. Maira spoke first.

"We have spoken to the Jedi Council, and they have agreed that it is in the best interests of the Bukaters to leave Coruscant for a time, at least until the threat has ended. The Council has arranged for us to take a migrant transport to the Outer Rim, one that will be stopping on various planets, including Arcadia."

"We are going to Arcadia?" Rosé asked hopefully.

"Yes, to your father's wilderness estate. We will be disguised as migrants for the journey there."

Rosé straightened, looking happier than she had been in some time. "I will be glad to get away from here for a while, and we can take Father's ashes back there and scatter them in the place he loved the best."

Ruth was not so enthusiastic. "I don't know…are you sure we need to leave Coruscant? Caledon has offered to hire extra security…"

"Forgive me, Mistress Ruth, but I agree that it in your best interest to disappear for a while. Your family has been attacked three times now, once in a public place surrounded by people. We cannot guarantee your safety here."

"But how do you know we'll be any safer in the wilderness on Arcadia?" Ruth argued. "It's very isolated, with only a few servants and the nearest neighbors a hundred kilometers away—and that a small Nem village."

"It is for that reason that I believe you would be safer there. Most of Arcadia is still uncharted and unexplored, and that makes it difficult for anyone not knowing the area to find you."

"And I suppose you know the area?"

"I have been on missions to Arcadia, yes, especially when Lati was my Padawan and was learning to negotiate between the Nem and the Parni."

"I would feel far safer on Arcadia than here, Mother," Rosé interjected. "And the wilderness estate is difficult to find if you don't know where to look for it. Besides, Buguiness is there, and he always watches out for me…"

"Who is Buguiness?" Maira interrupted.

"Buguiness is Rosé's 'pet'," Ruth told her. "He is a caline she rescued when he a was a cub, and he unfailingly obeys her and defends her fiercely when the need arises."

Maira nodded, familiar with the large, saber-toothed creatures who appeared to be an odd mix of canine and feline, and which, while rarely tamed, were fiercely protective of those they considered a member of their pack.

"What about myself and Cal?" Cina gestured, speaking a shortened version of Caledon's name that made him wince.

"There is no evidence so far that either of you are targets, so it is up to you whether you stay or go."

Cina nodded, considering. "I will stay, at least for the time being. Until the election, I am Arcadia's representative by default," she gestured, ignoring Caledon's glare.

Caledon had initially thought to accompany Ruth and Rosé back to Arcadia so he could keep an eye on his betrothed, but Cina's decision to stay behind had changed his mind. As much as he wanted to stay near his bride-to-be, and as much as disliked the Jedi, and distrusted the Padawan, whom he suspected had a more than protective interest in Rosé, his desire to keep power out of Cina's hands was greater. He didn't trust her, or any Nem.

Though the civil war that had engulfed Arcadia was over eighteen years in the past, he had spent many of the years since he had been returned to his family listening to his father's tales of the war and of Nem treachery. His father's company had manufactured weapons for use against the Nem in the war, and both Nathan and his son considered them to be violent, inferior people who could never reach the levels of culture and intelligence that the Parni had achieved, though Nathan tried to hide his feelings about them from the public, and Caledon didn't think that Cina could properly represent Arcadia in the Senate. Not only was she a Nem, but she was also a woman, and he didn't believe that any female could truly understand politics and power.

"I will also stay," he announced, much to Cina's dismay. He smiled slightly at her, letting her know that he intended to watch her every move and stymie any efforts she made in the Senate. "But if I am needed on Arcadia, I will come as quickly as possible."

Caledon missed the look of relief that crossed Rosé's face before she masked her expression. She would be glad to have some time away from him.

"You will be coming, too?" Ruth inquired, looking from Maira to Jack.

"Yes." Maira nodded. "We will accompany you to Arcadia and stay as long as necessary."

"Can you teach us some ways to defend ourselves?" Rosé asked. "Perhaps how to use a blaster or other such weapon?"

Maira nodded, glancing at Jack. "I have already given Padawan Dawson permission to train you in the use of weapons and defense tactics other than those used by the Jedi."

Caledon shook his head disapprovingly. "It's a man's place to protect the women of his family."

Ruth nodded, agreeing, but Rosé and Cina both shook their heads in disagreement.

"A woman is as capable of defending herself and her family as a man," Cina gestured, "and she should know how to do so in case the need arises."

Rosé nodded, agreeing. "Besides, a man cannot always defend himself, let alone those who rely upon him. If he could, my father would not be dead, and you would have kept that man from attacking me tonight."

Caledon's face reddened angrily, but before he could reply, Maira put a hand up, interrupting the argument. "A woman is quite capable of learning to defend herself and others, but because your culture emphasizes a man's need to protect his family, I will not insist upon Mistress Ruth and Mistress Rosé learning to use weapons and defend themselves. However, if either of them desires to learn, Padawan Dawson and I will teach them, with or without your approval."

"I must insist…"

"It is up to them what they choose to learn. Mistress Rosé is not yet your wife, so you have no control over her actions, nor over Mistress Ruth's. The galaxy can be a dangerous place, Mister Hockley, especially for those in a position of power whom others might want to stop. For your betrothed's sake, I suggest you not interfere in the efforts of her or her mother to learn to take care of themselves."

Caledon took a deep breath, stopping himself from saying something he might later regret. "Very well, but after we are wed, Rosé will rely upon me." He looked at his betrothed. "You understand that, right, Sweetpea?"

"Of course," Rosé replied quietly, hiding what she thought about having to rely upon him. "Of course, Caledon."

"The transport leaves in two days," Maira reminded them. "You will be disguised as migrants to throw anyone watching the transport off the scent. If you need to obtain proper clothing, we will accompany you to purchase it. I must also caution you not to mention where we are going or what transport we are traveling on to anyone, lest word get out of our travel plans or destination. For your own safety, I suggest you keep it a secret."

Ruth sighed, but nodded. "None of us will say a word, and I will command TC-16 not to say anything, either. We will leave the droid to keep the apartment while we are gone." She got to her feet, offering her daughter a hand. "In the meantime, Rosé and I are quite tired after events of tonight. We will rest now, and pack and purchase anything we need tomorrow."


	10. Part I: Chapter Nine

**ACROSS THE STARS  
Chapter Nine**

_Two Days Later_

Rosé walked behind Maira and Ruth, Jack by her side. All four of them were disguised in the attire often worn by poor migrants traveling from one planet to another, posing as a family seeking work on a planet in the Outer Rim. Maira had devised a cover story for the group in case anyone asked—she and Ruth were sisters seeking work in the factories on Arcadia, and Rosé and Jack were Maira's children. Ruth had not been terribly happy with the idea, but had gone along with it for her daughter's sake.

Now, as they approached the transport, Rosé took a deep breath, glad that the shabby dress and cloak she was wearing didn't need a corset to fit properly. The clothes were soft and well-worn, and in spite of not being a perfect fit, were actually more comfortable than what she usually wore on Coruscant or in Arcadia's cities.

She looked up, grinning, as Jack poked in annoyance at the thin Padawan braid coiled carefully behind his ear, placed there to hide the fact that he was a Jedi. She guessed that it itched, but hiding the braid was necessary. Poor migrants were common enough, but few were Jedi.

"What?" Jack looked at her.

Rosé tried to stop smiling. "Nothing. It just looks like you ear itches."

He frowned. "I don't like having to pretend that I'm not a Padawan. It's been necessary a few times, but I'd still rather be honest—and you're right. The braid makes my ear itch."

"Try this." Rosé turned to him as they came to a stop in line. She reached under the hood of his cloak and unfastened the braid, coiling it tightly a bit back from his ear so that it was still hard to see, but not so bothersome. "As a veteran of many elaborate hairstyles, I've learned a thing or two about making them more comfortable," she whispered.

Ruth turned, seeing Rosé trying to arrange something under Jack's hood. "Rosé, what are you doing?" she asked, eyeing her daughter severely.

Rosé quickly stepped away from Jack. "Just…uh…just trying to help him out, Mother," she responded. Ruth didn't usually want Rosé to fuss with her own hairstyles, let alone someone else's.

"Stop it, both of you," Maira said, not turning around. "Jack, I know you don't like to coil your braid up, but unless you intend to keep your hood up all the time—and that would look very suspicious—you have to keep it hidden. Rosé, he can take care of himself. You don't need to help him."

"But I was just—"

"Rosé!" Ruth looked at her severely.

Someone nearby chuckled at the recalcitrant looks on the faces of the two young people. "My brother and I used to fight the same way," the old woman remarked, looking at the little "family."

"Well, at least the disguise is working," Jack whispered to Rosé as the approached the entrance to the transport.

Rosé took a deep breath. "This will be an adventure, I think," she remarked to him. "I've never traveled on a transport like this before. I always traveled on my father's private transport, or at the very least, in first class accommodations on public transport."

"This will definitely be different for you, then," Jack told her. "I have been on this kind of transport before—a couple of times, anyway—and it's about as basic as you can get and still be reasonably sure that it will make it to its destination."

Ahead of him in line, Ruth frowned, hoping that the transport would get them to Arcadia and not leave them stranded on some strange planet, or worse yet, in space, at the mercy of anything coming past them.

Finally, they were able to board the transport. After finding their sleeping accommodations—the trip would take several days—Rosé looked at the various beings on board the transport and begged to be allowed to explore.

Ruth looked at Maira uncertainly; then, at Maira's nod of assent, said, "You may go—but only if one of the—only if someone accompanies you." She caught herself before saying Jedi, knowing that she only had to be overheard by one interested being for their cover to be blown.

Rosé sighed. "All right, Mother." She looked from Jack to Maira, hoping that one of them would accompany her.

Maira nodded to Jack. "Go ahead, Jack. I trust you can keep her safe."

When Rosé and Jack were out of earshot of the two women, she whispered to him, "I hope these disguises work. I'm tired of living in fear. I want to get home to my father's wilderness estate on Arcadia and be safe."

He nodded. "Hopefully, you will be safe there. Rosé, I have to be honest with you…Master Maira and I can't watch over you and your mother indefinitely."

Rosé sighed. "I know. That's why, when we get to father's estate, I want to learn to defend myself. I hope that Mother will want to learn, too—but I don't know if she'll want to try."

"Master Maira and I will teach you what you need to know…and your mother, too, if she wants to learn."

She frowned. "I just hope we won't need to defend ourselves…but I'm afraid we will."

"As my Master would say, don't worry about the future so much. Be mindful of the present…there's enough trouble already without looking for more."

"You're right, but…I can't help but worry. After the assassination attempt at my engagement dinner…"

"I'll…we'll show you what you need to know to defend yourself, if something like that should happen again. In the meantime, though, you wanted to explore the transport, and that will give you a chance to see who's on it and where things are located, so that if a problem does arise, you at least might have a chance of saving yourself. It'll give me a chance to look for any dangers, too."

Rosé smiled slightly. "I do want to see the transport—and not just because there could be dangers here. I've never been on a transport like this before, and I want to see what it's like here."

XXXXX

Two hours later, Jack and Rosé had explored most of the transport, even sneaking a few looks at forbidden areas if the doors had been left open. Rosé was fascinated by the dozen or so different species aboard. Though she had met members of most of those species as a Senator's daughter, their interactions had largely been formalized, a part of politics instead of ordinary mingling. There were facilities on board to accommodate the needs of the different species—some very different from humans—and she had heard languages spoken that were so different from Basic or Parni that she had no idea what was being said, though she suspected that Jack did understand at least a little of those other languages from the way he listened carefully to what was being said as they passed by.

"You might want to make it less obvious that you're staring at people," Jack whispered to her.

"What?"

"Most beings who travel on this kind of transport are used to it. It isn't a great adventure to them…and staring is going to bring you unwanted attention."

"Aren't you paying attention to what's going on around you?"

"Yes, but it's good to be a little more…discreet. Some cultures take offense at staring."

"I know that, Jack. I'm not a Senator's daughter for nothing."

"I wouldn't believe it by watching you right now. You're observing the other travelers like they're entertainment."

Rosé turned to glare at him, her mouth hanging open. "I am not!"

Jack turned to her, leaning casually against a wall. "Sure you are."

"You're being rude."

"I'm trying to keep you safe." He leaned closer to her. "There's no guarantee that you won't be recognized, or that, even if you aren't recognized, someone won't take offense or get the wrong idea from you staring at them. It's okay to observe, but you need to be discreet unless someone is actually trying to get attention." He grinned, leaning back against the wall. "Pretend your betrothed is here and is watching your every move."

Rosé's expression darkened in an instant. "Don't talk to me about him." Eyes narrowed, she turned away and strode off into the crowd of beings in the dining area.

Jack hurried after her, shoving one man aside in his haste. "Excuse me. Sorry. Rosé! Come back here!"

He caught up to her at the end of the serving line. She saw him coming and turned her back on him.

"Rosé, you can't just run off like that—"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Padawan Dawson," she hissed. "You're here to protect me, not command me. And furthermore, don't talk to me about my relationship with Caledon. It's none of your business."

He sighed. "Sorry. You just…seem kind of unhappy with him."

"Whether I am happy with him or not is no concern of yours. He is my betrothed. That's all you need to know."

"Are you eating or not?" the server barked, looking at the line that had formed behind them.

"Yes. We're eating," Rosé snapped, snatching a tray and utensils. Jack looked back over the line that had formed behind them. Ruth and Maira were standing near the end of the line, Maira watching him with a raised eyebrow. He sighed and picked up a tray and utensils.

As they got their food and walked away, the heard the server shouting, "No droids!"

Jack looked at the droid in amusement, then frowned thoughtfully as he watched the familiar-looking astrodroid roll toward a table. He watched it place the food on the table before two humans, then smiled, suddenly realizing who they were.

"Rosé." He nudged her arm.

"What?" She looked up, still annoyed at him.

"You and your mother aren't the only ones hiding out on this transport," he whispered. "Look over there."

Rosé looked in the direction, he indicated, her eyes lighting at the sight of Senator Amidala and a young man she didn't know, but who was probably a Jedi Padawan if the braid showing carelessly was any indication.

She headed in the direction of the Senator's table. "Senator—" she began.

Padmé looked up, startled, relaxing when she saw who it was. "Just call me Padmé," she whispered. "I don't need anyone finding out where I am."

Rosé nodded. "Sorry…Padmé. I heard…" She sat down as Padmé waved invitingly to the space beside her, Jack across from her. "I heard that there were several attempts on your life…that your transport exploded when you first arrived on Coruscant."

She nodded, lowering her eyes sadly. "Yes. My decoy, Cordé, was killed, as were six others. Then there was another attempt a few nights ago…which he…" She pointed at the young Jedi sitting across from her. "…has still not given me all the details of besides what I saw myself."

"After my father was assassinated, there were two other attempts on Mother's and my lives…one in our apartment, which…obviously did not succeed." Rosé paused, not wanting to go into details as to how the attempt had been unsuccessful. "The second was at my betrothal dinner. A Senatorial aide was killed, an elderly Senator who opposes the Military Creation Act was injured…and the Jedi who were assigned to protect us ended the attack but were unable to find out who was behind the assassination attempts." She didn't add that Caledon had killed the man who was, perhaps, their best chance for finding out who was behind the attacks.

Padmé nodded. "I was convinced…eventually…to leave Coruscant for my own safety, though I'd still prefer to be there for the vote…I've worked hard to keep this from being passed. So did your father."

"And for his trouble, he was killed."

"Someone wants badly to have that act passed…I can only hope that we soon know who…and bring these assassination attempts to a stop."

Rosé looked across the table at Jack and the other Padawan, who she now recognized from one of Jack's drawings as Anakin Skywalker. Both were scarfing down the unappetizing looking food as if they hadn't eaten in days.

She raised an eyebrow. "Either the food at the Temple must be terrible to make this appetizing, or they don't feed you nearly enough," she commented.

Anakin, who had been staring at Padmé as he ate, tore his eyes away her long enough to respond to Rosé. "Some of both."

Jack shook his head. "It's not that bad, and there's enough of it…but as both of our Masters say, when food is offered, eat."

Rosé glanced across the room at Maira, who was eating the same unappetizing food, but at a far more sedate pace, and looked skeptically at Jack, who had finished his food and was eyeing hers.

"If you're not going to eat that—" he began.

"Forget it." Rosé drew her food closer. "This is mine. If you're still hungry, go get more yourself." She shook her head. "You remind me of a young man Mother hired to work in the kitchen at the city house on Arcadia when I was a child. He would have eaten us out of house and home if he'd been allowed to. Fortunately, he stopped eating so much when he got a little older."

Jack looked a little sheepish; Maira had commented on the same thing. "All right. I'll be right back," he said, getting up.

"Be mindful of your surroundings," Anakin quipped.

"What?"

"I guess you didn't notice who you shoved aside when you were chasing her." Anakin pointed to Rosé.

Jack stopped. "Was that you?" He caught Rosé smirking at him out of the corner of his eye and scowled at her. She made a face at him, still smirking over the fact that he had been lecturing her about being too observant.

"And the other night, I was the one who tried to get his speeder under the woman you almost dropped off the balcony at 500 Republica."

Now both Jack and Rosé turned red, while Padmé looked at them inquiringly. "That's how much you know!" Rosé exclaimed, jumping to Jack's defense. "I was the one who was hanging off the balcony, and he didn't drop me. I slipped when I leaned over the balcony to wave to someone I knew, and he saved me."

Anakin, who had seen her standing on the balcony wall before she slipped, didn't say anything. Rosé narrowed her eyes at him, realizing how he'd happened to be close enough to try to catch her, though at the time she hadn't realized anyone was there.

"Anyway," she added, giving him her best haughty look, "it was stupid and I'd rather not discuss it."

Anakin shrugged, still not saying anything, though Rosé suspected he was storing that bit of information away for future reference, and hoped that he would not share it with Padmé.

Her suicide attempt was her own mistake, a secret between Jack, Maira, herself, and now Padawan Skywalker, and she didn't want anyone else to know.


	11. Part I: Chapter Ten

**ACROSS THE STARS  
Chapter Ten**

_Three Days Later  
Arcadia_

Rosé stood at one of the thick transparisteel windows, watching the Arcadian system come into view with growing anticipation. She had enjoyed the trip—it had indeed been an adventure—but now she was glad to be home.

The transport had landed on Naboo twenty-two hours earlier, and, as she had never been there before, Rosé had insisted upon disembarking for a little while to see what she could, much to Ruth and Maira's dismay. Rosé had pointed out that she would be with Jack, who had escorted her everywhere the past two days, and would be walking with Anakin and Padmé for a little while before they boarded another transport to take them to another part of Naboo, but Ruth had only grudgingly given her consent, and Maira had reminded them to keep an eye out for any dangers and to keep a close watch on the time so that the transport didn't leave without them.

They had gotten back with time to spare—the transport had been there for two hours—but Rosé had been glad for the chance to get some fresh air and sunshine, taking in the sights of another world. Padmé had been happy to tell her about Naboo—the Senator was far more relaxed when she wasn't on official business—and Rosé, who had counted Padmé as a friend for some time, was glad to get to know her better. They had quite a bit in common—both loved and wanted the best for their home worlds, had a strong interest in what was happening in the galaxy, and had strong independent streaks—but Rosé envied Padmé her freedom.

Padmé was a Senator, with the ability to openly influence what happened on her world and in the galaxy, and she had been a queen when she was younger, but Rosé doubted that she herself would ever have such influence. To be sure, many Arcadian women worked behind the scenes and advised their husbands, fathers, brothers, and male friends in political matters—though Ruth had shown more interest in social activities than politics, much to Cleon's dismay—but being permitted open influence was rare. Cleon had permitted Rosé to sit in on Senate sessions, and had asked her what she thought, though he had often pointed out the flaws in her youthful reasoning—but she doubted that she would be permitted even that much after she wed Caledon.

Rosé envied Padmé's freedom in selecting her own husband, too—and even in deciding whether or not to marry at all. Marriage was not considered so essential to a Nubian woman's life as it was to a Parnian woman's, and arranged marriages were rare on Naboo—and divorces far easier to obtain in an unhappy situation. Rosé was not looking forward to her marriage to Caledon, but she didn't feel that she had much of a choice now.

Before Anakin and Padmé had left, Rosé had asked Anakin if she could speak to him alone for a moment. He had agreed, leaving Padmé with Jack—Padmé had looked relieved to be away from his constant scrutiny for a moment—and followed Rosé to a spot by a fountain where they would not be overheard.

Rosé had taken a deep breath, not sure where to begin, then said, "You tried to catch me the night I almost feel from the balcony of my apartment in Coruscant."

He'd shrugged. "I was trying, anyway. Luckily for you, you didn't fall."

"Yes. I was lucky. Padawan Skywalker…"

"Anakin."

"Anakin, what did you see before I fell? Did you see anything?"

"I saw a woman standing on the balcony wall—I didn't know who you were then. I thought you might fall, so I tried to get under you with my speeder."

"And do you know why I was standing on the wall?"

"Well, people who stand up on a narrow balcony wall above the city like that are usually crazy, drunk, or intending to jump off."

"And which do you think I was?"

"I don't know."

Rosé had glared at him, trying to see if he was telling the truth, but his expression was unreadable.

"I don't want you mentioning this to anyone. Not Padmé, not your Master, not _anyone_. I am a Senator's daughter, and if anyone were to get the wrong idea about what happened, my reputation—and that of others—could be damaged."

He'd shrugged again. "Sure."

She hadn't been sure if she'd believed him or not.

Rosé was drawn from her thoughts as Ruth came to stand beside her at the window. "We're almost home, Rosé," she said, looking sad as Arcadia's star grew from a bright spot far away to a star with visible planets.

Rosé thought of her father's ashes, carefully packed away in one of her mother's bags. "It won't be the same without Father there."

Ruth felt for the locket she was wearing beneath her shabby clothes, a gift from her husband on their wedding day containing holos of both of them in their youth. "No, it won't."

"I'd rather be on Arcadia than Coruscant, though. It's…calmer at home, especially in the wilderness."

"I'm still not sure it's the best place to go. It's so far away from everything. If something happens…"

"I agree with the Jedi, Mother. Very few people can find Father's wilderness estate unless they know where it is. At the city house—everyone knows where that is. Tourists stop and take holos of it…it would be easy for an assassin to get close there."

"But there would be others to help if there was trouble."

"There were others on Coruscant," Rosé whispered, "and Father still died. We were almost killed, too." She felt tears pricking her eyes and blinked them back, leaning against her mother when Ruth put an arm around her.

"I miss him, too, Rosé. Our marriage was arranged, but…he was a good man, and I learned to love him."

In that moment, Rosé almost told Ruth that she didn't want to marry Caledon, that she wanted to call the betrothal off…but then Maira and Jack stepped up to the window beside them, and the moment passed.

The was a slight jolt as the transport came out of hyperspace, proceeding more slowly through the system's seven planets. Arcadia was the fourth planet, with seven moons of its own.

Rosé's sorrow faded somewhat as she watched Arcadia coming into view. At two hundred sixty-one thousand kilometers in diameter, the planet was one of the larger inhabited worlds in the galaxy, and even though the Parni had been inhabiting it for five thousand years, and the Nem for twenty-five thousand, much of it was still unexplored.

The gravity of Arcadia was not nearly so strong as its size suggested. The core of the planet was mostly dense gas, with an outer crust of soil, water, and stone. At an earlier time, the gravity had been more intense and the atmosphere less oxygenated—hence the small, sturdy stature and barrel-chested build of the Nem, the original human inhabitants of Arcadia—but as the dense gas inside the planet had broken through weak spots in the crust, the oxygen level had risen and the density of the core had decreased somewhat. Even so, the people and animals of Arcadia had extraordinarily strong bones that did not break easily, and the few flying creatures were very small. Trees and shrubs had dense wood, and even the grasses and herbs had strong stalks and stems. In response, the animals that fed on these grasses and herbs had strong teeth that ground the tough stems easily, and the insects that fed on the tough parts of the plants had developed a strong acid that dissolved the plant tissue before it was eaten.

Most travel was done on the ground, rather than by flying, as it took much less effort and energy to travel along the ground or on the water than to fight gravity. Flight was mostly reserved for journeys too long to be undertaken on the ground or water. Arcadia's gravity was fifty percent stronger than that of the Arcadian moon, Parni, that the people who called themselves the Parni had originally come from—a far smaller world, at only thirteen thousand kilometers, and many a weight-conscious visitor had been horrified at the sudden drastic increase in their weight—caused, of course, by the stronger gravity.

Some visitors found walking tiring at first, with the stronger gravity, and anyone who stayed on Arcadia for long began to develop stronger muscles, bones, and lungs in order to cope with it. Some visitors found the gravity to be too strong for them, and soon left—or suffered a great deal. The earliest Parni to live on Arcadia, already weakened by the harsh conditions on the moon they had left, had died in large numbers, leaving only the strongest as their descendants.

Rosé looked out the window as the transport circled Arcadia, watching each of the seven moons come into view—Cinati, Rebmets, and Egayo, all dry, rocky, and atmosphere-less, with little or no life to be found on them; Inos, with its atmosphere and ocean of methane where a few hardy species of bacteria thrived; Jenon, some eleven thousand kilometers in diameter, which had a tropical climate and millions of species, but which was seldom visited due to the fact that the moist heat quickly rusted the metal parts of transports; Ramis, five thousand kilometers in diameter, a desert moon with a low oxygen atmosphere that was nevertheless home to a few thousand hardy plants and animals and a small community of Nem who had settled there after fleeing the civil war on Arcadia eighteen years before; and Parni, from which Rosé's people had fled five thousand years earlier when the moon had been rendered largely uninhabitable by unchecked pollution that had triggered catastrophic climate change, rendering the once lush moon into a place composed largely of ocean and desert. A handful of Parni had remained behind when the others had fled—mostly criminals and political dissidents—and in the ensuing millennia had rebuilt their civilization on the slowly healing moon; they were fiercely protective of their home, permitting no industry, little tourism, and immigration only if the human population dropped below five hundred thousand.

At last, the transport entered Arcadia's atmosphere, dropping slowly towards Telsni, the planet's largest city and the major political seat of Arcadia. It was here that Arcadia's koning, the planet's leader, resided, as well as his advisors. Though the koning position was technically an elected one, the same family usually held the position for several generations before being pushed out by someone close to them. The Bukaters' city house was in Telsni, and it was there that Cleon had resided when he had political business on Arcadia, as had his father and grandfather before him, both Senators themselves.

Rosé rushed to collect her belongings as the transport landed, leaving the others running and dodging others to keep up with her, and hurried off of the transport as soon as she was able, taking deep breaths of the fresh air. She whirled around, taking in the landmark visible even from the city—Arcadia's second-highest mountain range, the highest peak twenty-nine kilometers high and often invisible in the clouds—but it was visible today. She could smell the Alaan sea, a large inlet of the ocean that surrounded each of Arcadia's twelve continents. Telsni itself was located on the southeast coast of the North Alaan continent; the Bukaters' wilderness estate was five hundred kilometers to the northwest, located at the edge of a heavily wooded valley, the house built against the base of a cave-honeycombed mountain that caused the building to blend into the landscape, making it virtually invisible unless one knew where to look.

Ruth caught up with her before she could disappear into the crowd. "Rosé, you need to stay with us."

"Mother—"

"She's right, Mistress Rosé," Maira told her. "We don't know who might be here. You need to stay close."

"But we're back on Arcadia!"

"Nevertheless, you need to stay close. We will be stopping by your father's city house so your mother can collect some belongings, and then we will begin the trip to the wilderness estate."

Rosé sighed, some of her earlier enthusiasm fading. "I'm just so glad to be home…"

"I know, but it's the duty of Padawan Dawson and I to make sure that you stay safe, even here. Once we get to the wilderness, you'll have more freedom—but even then, my Padawan will be accompanying you if you wish to go very far."


	12. Part I: Chapter Eleven

**ACROSS THE STARS  
Chapter Eleven**

Rosé leaned forward in her seat, staring out the window of the private compartment in the ground transport that was carrying them from Telsni to the Nem village of Az, the closest settlement to the Bukaters' wilderness estate.

They had spent the night at the city house before boarding the transport just after sunrise. It was a ten-hour journey from Telsni to Az, the route taking them around the Orpac mountains with their famous twenty-nine kilometer high peak.

Over the centuries since Telsni had been founded, many attempts had been made to build roads and rail lines over the mountains and to tunnel through them, but all had eventually met with failure. Even the lower peaks were too high for ease of construction or travel, the weather too harsh and swift-changing, and the few segments of road that remained were largely used by the mountain wildlife and the residents of the small, isolated villages that dotted the thickly forested lower mountain valleys. A few hardy people lived as much as five kilometers up the mountain peaks, but they were few and far between, and the appearance of any of them in the lowland cities and villages attracted crowds, due to the peak dwellers' unusually hairy and very barrel-chested forms.

Tunneling through the mountains to provide roads and rail lines had proven even less successful. The interior of the mountains was filled with pockets of dense gas, often explosive, and with underground lakes and rivers, some of them hot enough to kill a person in a matter of minutes. Some of the peaks were volcanic, as well, and the last attempt to tunnel through the mountains, which had taken place during the war, had killed thousands of tunnelers on both sides of the conflict when they had attempted to catch each other by surprise and had inadvertently tunneled into a heretofore stable pocket of molten rock.

Cleon Bukater had been instrumental in getting a law passed that banned any attempts at tunneling or building roads through the Orpac range. The number of people who had died building the roads and tunnels numbered in the thousands over the centuries, and hundreds had died trying to use the roads that had been built. Since then, all ground transports had gone around the mountains, and only those traveling on foot, with animals, or by air had gone into them. Most of those who did go into the Orpacs did not go far—only to the villages in the low valleys, or occasionally higher to hunt or prospect. Even so, some who ventured far into the mountains vanished, never to be found.

The transport slowed as it approached Az, its sensors scanning the tracks ahead for any obstacles as it moved toward the station. The door to the compartment opened as Maira slipped back inside, returning from one her many trips around the transport to check for threats.

Rosé had been worried at first when Maira had insisted upon leaving the compartment every half hour, but after the third time, when she had seen the smirk on Jack's face, she had asked him if the threat was really that great. He had told her that they had checked the transport thoroughly before the Bukaters had come aboard, and then checked again as it was leaving Telsni. Maira's insistence upon frequently checking for threats had more to do with her lack of an important Jedi trait—patience—than any actual threat.

The transport pulled into the Az station, the wheels screeching as it came to a halt. Ruth gave Rosé a severe look as she leaped to her feet, eager to be out of the compartment and on her way outside. Rosé sat down again, a bit sheepishly, while Jack and Maira cracked open the compartment door and watched as the few other passengers leaving the transport at Az gathered their belongings and disembarked. When the hallway was clear, they gestured to the Bukaters to follow them.

Ruth and Rosé followed the Jedi, carrying their luggage with the help of a porter droid. When they disembarked from the transport, Ruth looked around, her lips pursing in displeasure when she saw that the transportation she had arranged for the last leg of the journey was not yet there to meet them.

Maira stood beside Ruth, scanning the road running through the village and into the forest. Glancing at a chronometer on a nearby wall, she said, "We are about twenty minutes early, Mistress DeWitt-Bukater. If the transportation you arranged does not arrive by the time you stated, I will try to find out why."

As it turned out, it wasn't necessary for Maira to search for the missing transportation. Ten minutes later, a square cart pulled by six three-horned, four-legged creatures as tall as a man pulled up to the station. The driver got down from the cart, firmly tying off the lead animals. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that his passengers were already there.

"Mistress DeWitt-Bukater," he started hesitantly. "Sorry I'm a bit late…"

"You aren't late at all," Rosé interjected. "The transport was early…for a change."

He looked relieved…Ruth DeWitt-Bukater hated being kept waiting and wouldn't hesitate to let him know that she was unhappy with him.

He got another surprise when Maira and Jack followed the Bukaters to the cart. "Mistress DeWitt-Bukater?" he asked, glancing at the two Jedi, who were still disguised as migrants. "Are they accompanying you?"

"Yes, Boult, they are. This is Maira Jennings and her…son, Jack. They are going to be working at the Bukater estate."

Maira glanced at Jack, silently warning him not to say anything about being introduced as a servant. It was better if no one knew who they were.

He nodded, watching as Boult helped Ruth and Rosé into the cart. When he turned to help Maira into the cart, her hood fell back, revealing her face for a moment before she pulled it back up. Boult's eyes lit with recognition.

"Hey, aren't you—"

Maira shook her head quickly. "No…no, I'm not." She waved a hand. "I've never been here before."

Boult nodded, agreeing. "You've never been here before." He offered a hand to help her into the cart.

When Jack had scrambled into the cart beside his master, he called to her through their bond.

_/Master?/_

_/Yes, Jack?/_

_/Did he actually know who you were?/_

_/I think he did, yes/_

_/How did he recognize you?/_

_/I've been to Arcadia before, Padawan. He may have seen me when I was here with Lati. Or perhaps he saw me on the holo, or read about me in a flimsiplast/_

_/Do you think he'll report that we're here?/_

_/I don't know, Jack. For now, I've convinced him that I've never been here before/_

_/What will we do if it isn't safe here?/_

_/If it isn't safe here, and we can't keep them safe, we'll have to take them somewhere no one would expect to find them. For their sake, I hope we don't have to. The Bukaters have been through enough already/_

Jack nodded, agreeing, and braced himself as the cart started off with a jerk. In thirteen hours—half of an Arcadian day—they would be at the Bukater estate.


	13. Part I: Chapter Twelve

**ACROSS THE STARS  
Chapter Twelve**

Rosé leaned over the side of the cart, looking at the rutted dirt road ahead of them. It was growing late, the shadows lengthening, but she knew where they were and how far they were from the estate. With every landmark they passed—every stream, rock, meadow, and tree that she had played amongst as a child—they grew closer to home.

"Rosé!" Ruth tapped her daughter sharply on the shoulder. "Don't lean out of the cart that way. It isn't safe."

"Mother, we're almost home…"

"And I still don't want you falling out of the cart, nor do I want you sticking your head out where any predator can leap on you."

"Mother…"

"She's right, Mistress Rosé," Maira interjected. "One bad jolt and you'd fall. And there are predators in the Arcadian wilderness…and this is the time when they start coming out to hunt."

Rosé sat back in the cart, her expression unhappy. They had been cooped up in the cart for almost thirteen hours, with only a few brief breaks from time to time. Sometimes she felt like she could walk faster than the cart moved, and though she recognized the wisdom of both Ruth and Maira's words, she was eager to be home. It had been far too long since she had been to the wilderness estate—almost a year—and after all that had happened, she longed for the peace and remoteness of the place where she had spent so many happy times as a child.

She wondered what might have changed—if the servants were the same, if the gardens were as beautiful as she remembered, if Buguiness still regarded her as the leader of his pack. It had been so long since she had been home, the caline might very well have found a mate and started a pack of his own.

When the cart finally creaked to a stop inside the gates of the estate, Rosé restrained herself from leaping out of it until Jack, Maira, and Boult had gotten out, Boult moving to unhitch the cabils from the cart and Jack and Maira making a quick but discreet check of the area to be sure it was safe.

When they returned, Ruth and Rosé finally emerged from the cart, Ruth instructing the two Jedi to take their bags, continuing the pretense that they were the Bukaters' servants. Rosé glanced at Jack and Maira, seeking assurance that it was all right to go ahead. At their nod of assent, she hurried forward, walking toward the front entrance of the house and whistling a series of notes.

Maira and Jack stiffened as a high-pitched yelp came from the garden behind the house. They instinctively reached for their lightsabers, wondering why the Force hadn't allowed them to sense the threat, as an enormous creature with a thick bristle of black fur on its back and long, protruding fangs came racing out of the shadows and headed straight for Rosé.

Ruth waved to them to put their lightsabers away, and a moment later it became apparent why they hadn't sensed a threat—the creature raced to Rosé, tail whipping, and leaped up on her, placing its front paws, claws sheathed, on her shoulders, opening its jaw fully, and encompassing her head with its mouth. Her sun hat flew off and landed on the ground a couple of meters away.

"Buguiness!" Rosé flung her arms around the caline as he greeted her, tail still wagging. She shrieked as he leaned on her, nearly knocking her over, and began to lick the sun cream from her face and ears.

Finally, Rosé succeeded in freeing herself from Buguiness' overenthusiastic greeting, but not before he had licked off the last of the sun cream. Sniffing for more, he got down, rubbing against her for a moment before he turned to inspect the other humans.

Buguiness gave Ruth a cursory sniff, acknowledging that she belonged there, but not paying much more attention other than a quick attempt to lick her hand in search of more sun cream. Rosé's firm command and Ruth's moving her hands behind her back stopped him. He glanced at Boult and the cabils, snorted briefly and licked his chops, then turned to inspect the two strangers.

"Just stand still while he inspects you," Rosé told Jack as the caline circled him, sniffing. Jack did as she said, not wanting to provoke an attack. Finally, Buguiness completed his inspection and growled slightly, indicating that while he didn't consider Jack a threat to his mistress, he didn't fully trust him, either.

When he turned to inspecting Maira, his reaction was different. After sniffing her for a moment, he began to wag his tail, then jumped up on her, almost knocking over the startled Jedi Knight, and encompassed her head with his mouth.

"Buguiness! No!" Rosé and Jack both rushed forward to defend Maira against the caline, but he continued wagging his tail and began licking her face enthusiastically, ignoring both the lightsaber-wielding Padawan and his mistress, who grabbed his lower jaw and tugged in an effort to get him to let go.

Annoyed, Buguiness took one last swipe at Maira's face with his tongue, then sat down and looked quizzically at Rosé.

"Are you okay, Master?" Jack turned off his lightsaber, but kept it in his hand, looking at the beast sitting contritely Rosé's feet suspiciously.

Maira wiped her face with her sleeve and nodded. "Just a bit…surprised, is all," she assured him. "I don't think he was trying to harm me."

"I don't think so, either," Rosé interjected. "I think he was greeting you like a member of his pack. That's very strange, because calines are very suspicious of strangers, and even amongst those he knows, he's only ever greeted me and Father that way." She paused, thinking. "Perhaps we have a similar smell…though with all the time I've spent with Mother, he's never given her more than the slight acknowledgment that she exists and is not a threat."

Maira looked uncomfortably at the caline for a moment before Jack spoke up with his opinion. "Maybe it's because you're both Force-sensitive. Some creatures are more attuned to the Force than others."

"But why didn't he like you, then?" Rosé asked. "He doesn't think you're a threat, or he would have attacked you, or at the least, stood and stared at you, watching every move to be sure you didn't do anything to threaten me."

"Maybe because Master Maira is a woman? Some animals are more comfortable with women than with men."

"But he liked my father, and greeted him that way whenever he returned here."

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, then. Maybe—"

A yowl from the forest outside the gate interrupted him. Buguiness sat up, his ears swiveling in the direction of the sound.

"I think we should go inside now," Maira decided. "Something is evidently hunting out there, and although the gates are locked, it doesn't hurt to be cautious."

Ruth nodded in agreement. "You're right. I've seen tracks inside the gates on occasion, and they weren't from Buguiness nor any of the livestock."

Rosé nodded reluctantly, not wanting to go inside quite so soon but acknowledging the wisdom of both Ruth and Maira's word. She, too, had seen strange tracks on occasion, and in spite of the presence of Buguiness and the two Jedi, she had no desire to meet one of the predators that made their homes in the forest.

As they started toward the house, Buguiness hung back, running to the gates and issuing a snarl of challenge to the unknown creature in the woods. He followed them, then stopped, looking puzzled, and raced back to the gates, sniffing at them and running halfway back to the humans before returning to the entrance to the estate.

"Oh, no." Rosé's voice was so faint that it was almost inaudible. Tears filling her eyes, she whispered, "He's looking for Father."

Buguiness abandoned the gate and ran up to Rosé, nudging her with his nose and looking towards the entrance anxiously.

Rosé crouched down to the caline's level. "Oh, Buguiness, he's not here." Her voice was choked. "He's not coming back."

The caline didn't appear to understand. Ruth looked at her weeping daughter and went to one of her bags, pulling out an ornate urn and loosening the lid slightly before handing it to her daughter.

"I don't know if it will help, but let him smell this, Rosé. Perhaps his strong sense of smell will let him know who these ashes once were."

Rosé nodded, burying her face in Buguiness' fur for a moment before taking the urn. "Look, Buguiness," she whispered. "This is all that's left…if only you'd been there to protect him, it might have been different."

The caline growled uneasily, not knowing what to make of the somber atmosphere or his mistress' tears. He sniffed the urn she offered him, his growls growing louder until, with a yelp, he broke free of Rosé's arms and raced back to the gates, sniffing frantically and yelping loudly, his tail puffed out and standing stiffly.

Sobbing, Rosé handed the urn back to Ruth and leaned against her, allowing her mother to embrace her. "He knows, Mother. He knows."

Indeed, it did seem that Buguiness understood what had happened, for after sniffing and pawing at the gates a moment longer, he sat down, raised his nose to the sky, and let loose a bone-chilling yowl that members of his species seldom uttered except at the death of a pack member.

Rosé continued to sob at the sound, resisting her mother's efforts to lead her into the house. Only after the caline stopped yowling and ran towards a heavily wooded part of the estate did she finally allow the others to lead her inside.


	14. Part I: Chapter Thirteen

**ACROSS THE STARS  
Chapter Thirteen**

Late the next day, Welzin Saramar, a Parni priest that Cleon Bukater had known since childhood, arrived at the estate to conduct the Senator's memorial service. He was accompanied by Dola, a Nem holy woman from Az who had advised Cleon during the civil war. Both had admired the Senator, Saramar from the years he had spent watching a boy grow into a fine young man and Dola from helping in his efforts to end the civil war and stop the hatred and violence that had caused it and threatened to flare up again in the aftermath of the war.

Saramar was quite elderly now, and the long trip from Telsni to the Bukater estate was difficult for him, but the thought of refusing the request of Cleon's widow to perform the traditional private memorial service had never occurred to him. When Dola had heard the news, she had insisted upon accompanying him.

They had originally planned to accompany the Bukaters to their wilderness home, but Saramar's health was frail enough that he and Dola had decided to take an extra day to reach the estate. They had taken a later transport from Telsni and had stayed the night in Az before proceeding.

When they reached the estate, driven by a Nem youth from Az, Maira and Jack greeted them at the gate, checking to be sure they really were the Arcadian clergy whom Ruth had informed them would be coming. The Nem youth was also checked before being allowed through the gate by the two Jedi, who were now disguised as guards for the estate.

_/Do you know them, Master?/_ Jack inquired through their bond.

Maira answered, a bit hesitantly. _/I met Dola a couple of times when accompanying Lati here—they are of the same clan. As to Welzin Saramar, I know of him—I understand that he was a close friend of Cleon Bukater. I have never met their driver before, but I don't sense a threat from him./_

_/Nor do I, but Master—are you sure you haven't actually met the priest before? He seems to know you./_ Jack glanced from Maira to the elderly man, who had greeted her with a smile, a twinkle of recognition in his eyes.

_/Perhaps I have, Padawan. I've met many people over the years, more than I can remember./_

Jack gave her a doubtful look, but kept further questions to himself, knowing that there were more important matters at hand.

"I will inform the Bukaters that you have arrived," Maira told the visitors. "They have been waiting anxiously for your arrival." Unsure of how much the young driver understood, she gestured to him, "You are welcome to stay for now. It will soon be sunset, and the woods are dangerous at night."

The boy's eyes widened. He wasn't used to meeting Parni—at least, that was what he thought Maira was, though something about her made him unsure—who understood and used the Nem sign language so well.

"My thanks," he gestured in response. "I will return to Az in the morning."

Maira nodded, turning to her Padawan. "Jack, please escort them to the kitchen. They've had a long trip and I'm sure they're hungry. I will inform the Bukaters of their arrival."

*****

After the evening meal, Saramar and Dola escorted the Bukaters and their servants to the small shrine in the center of the house for the memorial service. Ruth and Rosé had made the arrangements for the service earlier in the day, placing a holo of Cleon Bukater on the altar, along with the urn of ashes and the traditional candles, seven in all.

There was nowhere to sit in the shrine unless one wished to sit on the floor—ceremonies were conducted standing or kneeling, though a person who was not physically able to stand could bring a chair without repercussions.

Much to Ruth's dismay, Rosé had insisted upon bringing Buguiness to the service, and any attempts to remove the animal had resulted in tears from Rosé and angry snarls from the caline, who had been clinging to her since she had let him in late the night before.

Rosé was embarrassed by her own lack of control over her emotions. She had kept them under tight control, for the most part, on Coruscant and during the journey to Arcadia, but since she had been reunited with her pet, her emotions had been spilling over. The more distressed Buguiness became, the more upset his mistress became, their emotions feeding off of one another.

Maira thought she understood, suspecting that the girl had formed a bond with her pet that allowed their emotions to be transferred back and forth. She had noticed the same thing many times with her Padawans—if she or her Padawan felt strongly about something, it would spill over the bond. Rosé seemed to have a similar bond with the caline, but unlike the Jedi, she had never been trained to handle it.

Maira wanted to talk to Rosé about it, but there had been no time that day—she and Jack had spent the most of it exploring the estate and the surrounding forest, looking for possible threats. It was a large area to cover, so by the time they were finished, Ruth and Rosé were already in the shrine setting things up for the memorial service, so there had been no time to talk.

Now, Ruth, Rosé, and Buguiness stood at the front of the assembled group, listening as Welzin Saramar spoke of Cleon Bukater, speaking of his life and his accomplishments. He had already performed a public memorial service for the Senator when his death had been announced, trying to comfort the grieving people. Cleon Bukater had been well-liked in most quarters.

Dola, too, had much to say about the deceased Senator, though she was unable to speak the words. Instead, she used the most formal, eloquent of gestures from the Nem sign language, her speech appearing almost like a dance. Even those who did not understand her gestures were moved by her expressive motions.

Rosé stood silently between her mother and her pet, reaching occasionally to wipe her eyes but otherwise making no gesture or sound. Her mind went over all the years with her father, all the good times she had spent with him—accompanying him on Senatorial business, walking with him on the wilderness estate, her joy when, after much pleading, he had allowed her to raise the orphaned caline she had found in the woods. In spite of her silence, her grief was so strong that she didn't know how she could bear it, especially when Buguiness gave her a look of infinite sadness and tried to wrap himself around her protectively.

At the end of the memorial service, Dola and several Nem servants gathered together and played the traditional drums and flutes used in Nem ceremonies. Though Cleon had been a Parni, he had been loved and respected by both peoples.


End file.
